Remember Me Too
by Possibly a Smidge Weird
Summary: 'I can feel it; me dying. Again and again and again. I can't stop it happening; it just does. It's not my fault either. I didn't choose this – in fact, I had no control whatsoever – but it's my life. I can feel myself die, over and over; sometimes before I'm even born.' Clara might have chosen to jump into the Doctor's timestream, but Scarlett didn't. AU from The Name of the Doctor
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I don't, and probably never will, own Doctor Who.

I can feel it; me, dying. Again and again and again. I can't stop it happening; it just does. It's not my fault either. I didn't choose this – in fact, I had no control whatsoever – but it's my life. I can feel myself die, over and over; sometimes before I'm even born. I learn new things every time. But it hurts. It hurts so much: because I can feel all the pain at once. Every explosion, every bullet, every fall and every landing. I can feel every death at once; and it is more pain than I have ever felt. Not that I've felt very much though, because I haven't even been born yet; not really.

I listen to everything, but I can't hear. I look at everything, but I can't see. I take in everything, but I know nothing. I'm not really possible. I've lived a thousand times but I've never lived at all. I'm a contradiction. I shouldn't – can't - exist, but I do.

My name is Scarlett. It's my mother's favourite colour; she wears it a lot. I'm told I look like her, but whenever I'm born I look a lot like my father too. Not my biological father; my real father. My mother gets a lot of disapproval for it – especially in the earlier Earth years – because people think she was unfaithful, and one time she was completely disowned by her family because of it. It makes me feel somewhat guilty, but I know there's nothing I can do about it.

I wonder if my mother will remember me, from all the different times I've lived. I always look the same - so does she - but I live to different ages. I'm always called Scarlett though; that's one thing that's different from my mother. She had so many first names, and always the same last name. But she has never remembered. Every time I was born, I'd know about all the others; the different Scarlett's. It was so painful, and I end up screaming most of the time. People thought I was being 'attention seeking', and on the rare occasion that one of my 'father's' sticks around it results in conflict very often. But the only person's attention I wanted was my mother's; and she was only ever an echo of the real Clara Oswald.

I wish I could meet my real father. I've seen him many times - heard a lot about him - but I've never met him. I might get to now. Because I'm being born. I'm actually, properly, going to be alive. As the real Scarlett, no-one else. And I'm finally going to meet my father. Maybe he can stop the pain.

After all, he is the Doctor.

**A.N: **Hello people. This is just an idea I had while watching 'The Name of the Doctor' for the 3rd time today. It's really short, and I'll only continue if people like it. So **please review**, because I have a few possibilities of where this could go but nothing solid. If anyone has any ideas, feel free to tell me.  
-Weird :)

_Updated: 15/6/2013_


	2. Chapter 1

The Doctor carried Clara away from his other self, cradling her small body close to his chest. He quickly exited his time-stream, and headed towards the TARDIS; Jenny, Vastra and Strax following along. He ran past River's, now demolished, false grave and the TARDIS opened the doors for him as he ran through them – she was just happy to get away from Trenzalore.

The Doctor continued running; up the stairs, to the left, then left again; straight to the sick bay. Silently thanking himself for not changing the layout when he last modified the TARDIS interior, the Doctor gently placed Clara on one of the beds. He then ran around the room, grabbing all the human medicine he could find as he went. As he made his way back to her, Clara coughed suddenly, before jerking upright. She looked around desperately, but then she finally caught sight of the Doctor and sighed with relief. The Doctor was standing next to her by now, and he slowly reached up a hand to cup her face. She leaned into it, closing her eyes and smiling slightly.

"Hey." The Doctor said softly, and Clara went to reply, but it came out as a short croak. She swallowed, before trying to speak again, but the Doctor shushed her gently and strode to the sink next to the door. He filled a glass of water for Clara, before returning to her bedside and helping her to drink it. He then laid her back down on the bed.

"Where does it hurt?" He asked quietly, and Clara held up both of her arms to show the slight grazes to them. The Doctor looked at them closely, before turning to his pile of human medical supplies and searching out the balm he needed to heal it. Finding the small tin, he opened it; before glancing down at Clara.

"This'll sting a bit." He said, and Clara noted that he hadn't lied to her, not like a few hours ago – though it felt like a lot longer – and only winced slightly when he applied the cream to her grazed arms

"That should do it." He declared, snapping the lid back onto the tin and placing it back on the table. "Now, get some rest." The Doctor whispered, bending down to give Clara a kiss on the forehead.

"Doctor," Clara rasped, "can I sleep in my room, please? I don't like hospitals." The Doctor nodded slightly, before gathering her small body into his arms and lifting her off the hospital cot. He walked quickly down the corridors, careful not to jostle her, then slowly entered her room. He placed Clara on the large, four-poster bed in the centre, and pulled the duvet over her. She snuggled down into the blankets and was asleep within a minute, a small smile gracing her face. The Doctor smiled at the sight, but when he got up to leave one of Clara's tiny hands shot out and wrapped around his wrist.

The Doctor looked back at Clara, unsure as to whether or not she was conscious. Not seeing anything, he went to move again; but her grip on his wrist only tightened. The Doctor sighed gently, before giving in and lying down beside her. Clara moved towards him, and curled her body against his; her head lying on his chest. In response, he wrapped an arm around her waist loosely, and pressed a kiss to her hair.

"Goodnight, my Impossible Girl."

* * *

I cried out in pain; it felt like my whole body was being pulled apart. I felt more pain than I usually did, but I suppose that's because this is the oldest I've ever been. I could hear my grandmother's frantic footsteps as she hurried into my room, and then again as she rushed to the side of my bed and knelt. I writhed in agony, and was carefully picked up by my grandmother and cradled against her chest. I wrapped my tiny hands around her long, greying hair, and buried my face against her shoulder, sobbing quietly.

"Shh, quiet dear, it's ok Scarlett, calm down" I heard her mutter to me, and I slowly built a wall in my mind; trying to keep the pain out.

"Want Mama" I said weakly, staring up at my grandmother with big, brown eyes.

"She's just gone away again dear. You know, she's only in London because of your..." Grandmother trailed off, despite me knowing exactly what she was about to say: because of my father. I was born in 1890, and because my mother wasn't married I am technically an illegitimate child. But my grandparents hid my mother during her pregnancy, so to everyone else, they're my parents. And I have to call them 'Mama' and 'Dada' in public.

I don't see my mother very often; my parents moved to Yorkshire to keep me away from her. They said it was so that people didn't figure out who I actually was. But I think it's cause they don't like my mother anymore. She can only visit occasionally; when she can get time off from her job. The last time I saw her was last week; she took a week off to come and see me before Christmas. She came home when my grandparents were at market, and had some time with me before they returned. I even got some presents from her that she had bought in London with some money from her job.

My mother left yesterday, saying she would be back in about a month. I don't see how that's fair; I'm her daughter, and yet she spends more time with the children she looks after than with me.

"Don't worry though, she'll be back." I heard my grandmother say, which just brought on more sobs. Because I know that she's not coming back. Clara Oswin Oswald, as she's known in this time, is dead. I felt her die, as I usually do. Which begs the question; why am I still alive?

**A.N: **Hello People. I'd just like to say thankyou to all the people who took the time to read this story, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Super special thanks to GirlWithTheNotebook for being my first ever review on here, and to amazonstars, who also reviewed. Also, thanks to all the people who followed and/or added this story to their favourites.  
I probably won't update regularly; most likely every 3 days, because I haven't got much spare time. But I will try to continue this, and I'll also attempt make the next chapter a bit longer, because this one is only just 1000 words. Anyway, please review, and if you have any ideas, or some constructive criticism, then let me know.  
-Weird :)

_Updated: 15/6/2013_


	3. Chapter 2

**A.N: **Hi again guys. Thanks so much for everyone who reads this; I never actually thought anyone would like this. Anyway, this chapter skips about a lot. Well, actually, it just goes forwards rather quickly. It also includes a bit of torture (so I changed the rating to T), but it's not graphic. Anyway, Just Scarlett in this chapter. Hope you like it, and _**please review**_.  
-Weird :)

I'm in pain. And it hurts, so much. All I can focus on is the pain. I don't understand why I'm still alive. All the other times I had died as soon as my mother had. On numerous occasions I've wondered how people would react to that, but I expect it would have been quite a shock. I mean; mother and daughter dying, ok it happens, but on the same day? Sometimes I like to imagine how they'd react if another me managed to get to a slightly older age and come back. I think I'd give them quite a fright. But at the moment, I don't feel like doing anything but crying, sobbing, and being held tightly by my mother. But I know I can't be, because this Clara is dead.

I wonder how she died this time. I hope it wasn't as bad as the Dalek Asylum. I wasn't even born then, but I was aware of everything. It's weird, because not many unborn babies can do that. I wasn't possible at all that time, because my mum had been shipwrecked (and been a Dalek) for a year. But that's beside the point.

I roll around in my small cot; my grandmother left the room a few minutes ago, when I'd stopped sobbing and settled for crying silently. I felt a cold shiver run down my spine, and did my best to burrow further under the small duvet. You know, thinking about it, there's not much point to it is there? I mean, the blanket isn't going to stop someone from hurting you, which kind of makes the phrase 'safety blanket' void.

I can hear a noise in the hallway. I hope it's my grandmother again. Maybe she got up to check on me. I see my door slide open slowly, but the light from the hallway is cut off by a thin silhouette. The only thing I can see of it is the white collar of its shirt. The rest is just black.

It walks forward slowly, stepping around the side of my bed. I shift further away from it, curling into a ball. The figure reaches out with long fingers and grabs me, lifting me up as it ties a gag around my mouth. I wouldn't make a sound anyway; it would only put Grandmother and Grandfather in danger. It then grabs me around the wrist and pulls me along. The last thing I hear as I'm dragged out of the house is the chiming of the grandfather-clock: midnight.

**3-years-old: **I think they're trying to brainwash me, but I'm not sure. They keep telling me that my mother left me and that I'm being looked after better here. I don't believe them. I don't know who they are, but I don't like them. I've only got a small room with a lumpy bed and a rotting table and chair. And they think they can convince me that I'm better off with them. I don't think they realise that I remember everything. I'm still confused, and there is still a lot of pain, but its fading now. I'm not sure whether that's good or bad.

**4-years-old: **They've left me in this dark cell, and I'm only allowed out once a day. They gave up brainwashing me after a while, and now they've started to punish me by taking things away from me. First, they shortened my 'outside time' (which is really nothing more than running around in a small fenced off square), then they decided to take away my desk and chair. After that they took my bed, and now they've got me locked up in a cell 23 hours a day. I wonder what they'll take off me next.

**5-years-old: **I haven't eaten in a week now. They've been doing this for a while; slowly limiting the amount of food I can eat. At first I thought it was because they were genuinely running out of food, but the time between my meals is getting steadily longer. This is the longest so far, and I'm starting to feel faint now, so I hope they come with more food soon.

**6-years-old:** They started to feed me more after I passed out from lack of food about a month ago. They've now turned to a much more traditional way of punishing me: torture. It's not as bad as I thought it would be, but I hope this isn't one of those 'spoke too soon' moments. So far they've only been beating me up once a week; twice if they're feeling mean. It's only punches and kicks, and they stay away from my face – apparently I'm 'too pretty to waste'. I'm a bit worried about what that means.

**7-years-old:** They're still beating me up, but now they've started using bats as well. I can feel it, but it's getting progressively less painful. I don't know whether that's just my pain threshold going up or if it's the drugs they've been injecting me with. Either way, it's not a particularly good thing, 'cause if they realise I can't feel the pain anymore they'll make it so I can.

**8-years-old:** Well what do you know; they've started with whips. They weren't as painful as I thought; but then they started putting little metal balls on the ends that slammed into the skin of my back and then ripped back out again; pulling my soft flesh away with them. They'd leave me like that for a few days, until the infections started, and then heal me. They keep adding more and more metal to the whip, and it's getting harder and harder to resist from crying out. I haven't cried though; not since they first started beating me up. I'm going to stay strong, like my mum would want me to. I have to.

* * *

**9-years-old:** They got rid of the whip a few months ago; after over a year of metal. I've got no scars to show for it though – apart from the mental ones – because they got rid of all of them. But it still hurts to move my back sometimes. Even now I don't know who they are. I've been wracking my brains, but I can't find anything. Maybe mum has met them before, or dad, but I certainly haven't.

* * *

**10-years-old:** I'm tied down at the moment, and they're pouring water over a cloth that's on top of my face. I keep trying to get out, but they've put me in steel cuffs; so it's almost impossible to move. I don't actually know how I'm still alive, because they've been at this for about 10 minutes now. I suppose it could be to do with being at least part Time Lord, but I'm not sure they know that.

* * *

**11-years-old:** They've decided I'm old enough now to answer their questions, but I'm not going to tell them much. The first time they asked me anything I fired some questions straight back at them; "Who are you? Why have you taken me?" They haven't answered me yet, but I still got punished for it. They punish me if I don't answer; they either punch me in the stomach or slap me in the face. It's the first time they've been allowed to hit my face, so that happens quite often. But I won't tell them anything.

* * *

**12-years-old:** They found out the other day. I was just doing my normal interrogation, but then one of them hit my wrist and broke it. I grabbed at my wrist, but he got there first, and then they found it. Two pulse points. They left me in the interrogation room and ran off to find the person in charge. When they came back they weren't alone, but I didn't see who else was with them, because I they knocked me unconscious before I got the chance to see. Now I'm lying on an examination table, and I'm scared. What are they going to do to me?

* * *

**15-years-old:** They've been operating on me for years now; cutting me open and examining me and then healing me up; only to repeat the process. I'm getting tired of this. I don't want to live. I haven't really; not since my mother died. I don't belong alive without her. Please, if anyone can hear me, please _just_ _help!_

* * *

_Updated: 15/6/2013_


	4. Chapter 3

The Doctor woke a few hours later, feeling fully rested and ready to go. He looked down at Clara, who was still curled in a ball at his side, before carefully moving off the large bed. He looked down at his rumpled clothes, before looking back at Clara. He figured it would only take a minute to have a quick shower and wash the dirt and grime from his face; the nearest bathroom was only around the corner.

The Doctor walked slowly out of the room, casting a final look at Clara, before hurrying off to find the bathroom. The TARDIS, however, seemed to have other ideas, as instead of turning down another dimly lit corridor – as he had expected to do – the Doctor suddenly found himself in the control room.

He didn't have long to wonder though, because the next thing he heard was an irritated yell from a certain grumpy Sontaran.

"I order you to take me home this instant!" Strax yelled at the TARDIS, but he received no response. He then kicked the console. _Wait... no-no-no, he can't do that..._

"Strax!" The Doctor yelled, making the short potato turn suddenly, and lose his balance in the process. "Do not kick my TARDIS! She'll get very cross with you." He quickly ran down to the platform that Strax was standing on and pulled him away from the console.

"This stupid machine won't take us home." Strax said. This was the point that the Doctor realised that they weren't alone, and turned to see Vastra and Jenny leaning against the railings. The Doctor had the decency to look slightly guilty, but when Vastra looked at his rumpled suit and raised a scaly eyebrow he floundered around for a response.

"No, it's not what you think. I just..." The Doctor stuttered, before hearing the high-pitched laughter of Jenny.

"Course not Doctor; we know wha' ya mean." Jenny said in her thick cockney accent, struggling not to burst into laughter once again. The Doctor grumbled slightly, before turning to the console.

"So, London, 1893, yeah?" He asked, pushing levers and flicking switches then turning back momentarily to see Jenny nod.

"I'd prefer Glasgow, if you don't mind: I still have some primitives to destroy." Strax returned, and both Vastra and Jenny shook their heads in despair.

"I hope you don't mean literally Strax, because I might be forced to stop you if you do." The Doctor stated, but he smiled slightly after it, trusting his friend to avoid actually 'destroying' anyone. There was a bit of shaking and shuddering, but eventually the sound of the TARDIS materialising greeted their ears.

"Well Doctor, it was nice seeing you again. Hopefully next time it will be under better circumstances." Vastra said, as she slowly exited the TARDIS, her arm through Jenny's. The Doctor smiled slightly at her words, waving for a second, before turning to the remaining Sontaran.

"I think I'll be off here then sir; might as well be of some use to the women." Strax said, stepping down from the main platform.

"Whatever you say, Strax." The Doctor replied with a smile, turning and rubbing his knuckles on the Sontaran's head, much to the somewhat distaste of his friend.

"Goodbye Doctor" Strax said and the Doctor replied in kind, before spinning and shutting the door. He pressed a few buttons and flicked a few more switches before once again pulling the materialisation lever; sending the TARDIS into the time vortex. He then chose to have the TARDIS just float in space, before running into the opposite corridor, looking for his original destination; the bathroom.

Clara woke screaming, gasping for air. She looked around frantically, breathing heavily and still sobbing slightly. Not a moment later the Doctor appeared at the door, rushing in to envelope her small body. She stopped her cries before hiccupping slightly; tears flowing down her cheeks. The Doctor rocked her back and forth in his arms, whispering softly to her. When Clara had gotten her breathing under control, she spoke softly.

"I-I dreamed that you l-left me. Th-that you d-didn't come and g-get me and I-I was stuck in that p-place." She stuttered, and the Doctor gripped her tighter – almost painfully close – to him.

"I would never have left you Clara. Never. Don't forget that." He whispered gently. "So, how do you feel?"

"Tired, sore, confused..." The next word barely seemed to leave her lips "...scared." The Doctor hadn't thought it was possible for Clara to be any closer to him, but as he scooped her further into his lap and she buried her face in his neck, he discovered he was wrong.

They stayed like that for a while; his body curled protectively around hers, while she snuggled up against his chest. When the Doctor finally decided she was ready to move again, he stood slowly, and her short limbs stretched down towards the floor. When they were both standing they smiled slightly at each other, before Clara's brow creased suddenly and she pitched forward into the Doctor's chest.

"Clara! Clara, what's wrong?" The Doctor cried, his arms instinctively wrapping around her. He pulled her towards him, then placed an arm under her knees and lifted her into him. At the sounds of her soft whimpers, her looked down at her face and saw her eyes squeezed shut. He sat down on the edge of the bed again and brought the hand that was under her legs to her face; gently stroking her cheek until she slowly opened her eyes again.

"My head... hurts..." she managed to utter, but her voice was so soft that the Doctor almost didn't hear. "I don't think I can stand." Clara continued, but the Doctor just shushed her, before placing a tender kiss on her forehead and lifting her again.

"You seem to be doing this a lot." Clara stated a few minutes later, as the Doctor strolled down one of the main corridors towards the control room.

"Well, you seem to keep falling down a lot." He replied lightly, but the look in his eyes betrayed his concern.

"Don't worry; I'm fine. I've just got a headache." Clara stated as the Doctor walked them into the console room. He looked around him for somewhere to put Clara down, silently berating himself for having gotten rid of the chair.

"Right, you're going to have to stand." The Doctor said, looking guiltily down at his companion.

"Um... okay, just give me a second." Clara answered, closing her eyes before nodding up at him. The Doctor slowly let her legs drop, keeping a firm grip around her waist even after her feet came in contact with the floor. He supported her upper body as she steadied herself using the railing, before loosening his arm, and eventually stepping away from her; so that only their hands remained touching.

"Well, that went better than I thought it would." Clara smiled, then leaned back slightly on the railing and brought a hand up to her head. It was soon joined by one of the Doctor's, and he felt how hot her head was.

"I'll be back in a minute" He said, then ran off in the direction of the sick bay. He returned with a small bottle of tablets - which he then handed to Clara - and a glass of water.

"Take two of them; that should help with the headache." The Doctor said, and Clara put two tablets in her mouth before drinking the glass of water.

"What will they do?" She asked.

"They shut down power to the pain sensors of your brain; you can still feel stuff, but it should stop your headache. 34th century technology; some of the best they came up with." The Doctor replied rapidly, a smile growing on his face as he spoke. He then turned to look at Clara. "Are you feeling better yet?"

Clara's pale face was beginning to regain some of its colour; a smile blossomed on her face when she noticed the pain recede. "I think I'm good now." She said happily, pushing up off the railing.

"Brilliant. So, where do you want to go n-OW!?" The Doctor yelped the last word; a hand rushing to his right inside pocket and extracting a small wallet-type thing.

"Doctor, what is it?" Clara asked worriedly, watching as he flipped the black cover of the wallet and his eyes scrolled over words she couldn't see. "Oi; let me look." She said as she stood on her tip-toes trying to read the message. The Doctor tipped his hand towards her, giving Clara a clear view of the psychic paper. On it were two words; a plea.

"Someone needs our help."

**A.N: **Well people; I'm back. Sorry about the space between updates, I've had a lot of stuff to do lately and it's got in the way a bit so even though I'd started this chapter I hadn't finished it. It's a bit of a filler chapter, but it is the longest so far (which, I'm hoping, you'll consider as a good thing). This chapter is all the Doctor and Clara, and the next few chapters will probably be as well, but then you'll get more of Scarlett again. Anyway, _**please review**_ and I should have the next chapter up on Friday.  
-Weird :)

_Updated: 15/6/2013_


	5. Chapter 4

"So, what are we going to do?" Clara asked.

"What we always do." The Doctor smiled "Help." The Doctor ran around the console, pulling levers and typing things and flicking switches. "If I can trace the signal back, I can get a lock on it, and if I can get the coordinates, well, then we're good to go." The Doctor rambled, as he continued to pilot the TARDIS. He came to a sudden standstill in front of the scanner, grabbing the handles on the side of it to keep himself upright. Clara, who had been standing out of the way whilst the Doctor made his mad dash around the console, stepped forward to join him.

"That's not right. That can't be right." The Doctor muttered, staring intently at the screen.

"Well, what's it say?" Clara quizzed.

"It says the signal is coming from Novatram 4. But it hasn't been inhabited since the end of the Novatian war in 2573. The Morath tried to take over the planet and turn it into a huge energy conductor. Then the Resaix joined in and, well, the Draconians ended up bombing the planet with neutronic missiles to preserve to rest of the solar system; it was part their empire. The blast killed everyone on the planet; wiped out the Novatians and the Morath. Now it's covered in a layer of toxic gas. Nothing could survive down there."

"Maybe the signal's coming from before the war." Clara said hesitantly.

"No, the TARDIS has traced it to 2657. It shouldn't be possible." The Doctor ran around the console again, but this time the look on his face was severe. He spun around with a lot more determination than earlier, pulling down the materialisation lever before running off into one of the many corridors. Clara didn't follow him, as she knew her ankle was not up to the running yet; even with the pain meds the Doctor had given her. She watched as the Doctor leapt back into the room holding two small respirators and some goggles in his hands.

"Found these in the console room after the magno-grab incident; must have stuck around after I fixed things. Knew they'd come in handy." The Doctor walked around the console and handed a respirator to Clara. "Put that on, and make sure it's secure! Don't want you suffocating on toxic gas before we even find out the problem." He said lightly, but there was an undertone of concern in his voice.

"Doctor, I can't run like this; my ankle's still twisted."

"Take a look and then tell me that again." Clara looked down at her ankle, bending down to press her hand to the previously swollen joint before standing again and tentatively rolling it. She smiled up at the Doctor when she felt no pain.

"How?" She asked simply.

"I put a healing enhancer into the water you drank earlier. It fixes small injuries like cuts and bruises. And apparently twisted ankles." The Doctor replied, grinning back at her, before his face turned grim once again. "Right, shall we see who needs our help?"

The Doctor grasped Clara's hand tightly, before pulling his respirator over his mouth and making sure Clara's was also secure. They looked at each other one more – placing their goggles over their eyes – before the Doctor pulled open the TARDIS doors and they stepped out into the barren wasteland that was once Novatram 4.

"What do we look for?" Clara asked; her voice warped by the respirator, as she surveyed the smoky landscape.

"I dunno; something weird." The Doctor replied, dropping Clara's hand and stepping forward. He reached down and grabbed a handful of the ground, and it fell away from his palm like dust. "The planet isn't habitable – even we'll have to go inside eventually, 'cause the gases will start to decay our respirators." Then his voice dropped to a low whisper, and his next question was rhetorical. "So how come you're still alive?"

"Why don't you just use your spanner to scan this place?" Clara queried.

"It is not a spanner! It's a sonic screwdriver" The Doctor replied, "...but good idea." With a flourish that was totally unnecessary, the Doctor had conjured the sonic and turned it on. He waved the bright green light in the air around him, spinning slowly on the spot, until he came to a stop facing away from Clara. "That way." He said, pointing away. He grabbed Clara's hand again and rushed forward into the fog, coming to a stop suddenly about 100 feet later.

"What is it? I don't see anything." Clara said, straining her eyes to see further into the fog. The Doctor suddenly crouched down, his hands running along the ground, before he made a triumphant sound and stood up, pointing his sonic at the ground. He activated it, and Clara heard a strange sliding noise. The Doctor looked at her, before pulling a torch from his inside pocket and turning it on. Then, he was dragging her down a long, steep staircase.

"Where are we?" Clara asked when they reached the bottom of the staircase.

"I think these are catacombs." The Doctor answered grimly. "Again." The Doctor and Clara both took off their goggles, and when they found no gas in the air they pulled their respirators off as well. Clara looked out into the darkness, struggling to see beyond the small light from the torch. The rough, stone walls were grey, and looked as though they had been carved out of the rock by an inexperienced mason. The corridor they now found themselves in was narrow, but had a high ceiling which allowed both Clara and the Doctor to walk freely. There was dust lining the floor and walls, but no cobwebs.

"Why aren't there any cobwebs?" Clara asked.

"I told you; nothing can survive on this planet. Not even spiders." The Doctor crept quietly down the narrow passage, shining his torch in front of him with one hand whilst the other was firmly wrapped around Clara's smaller hand.

"How did you get the message anyway? I mean, you don't get messages from just anyone, do you?"

"No. Whoever sent that message was very powerful. And very, very, scared. Otherwise the psychic paper wouldn't pick it up. It's only happened a few times before."

"So who could it have been?" Clara questioned.

"Well, last time it was a Tenza child on modern-day Earth. I went there with the Ponds." The Doctor's words trailed away into a whisper, and Clara squeezed his hand gently to comfort him. He turned back momentarily to give her a small smile, before pressing onwards through the darkness.

After a few more minutes they came to a point where the corridor started to open out into a cavern. Opposite them was a tall steel door, which the Doctor soon found was deadlocked.

"Why do they have to deadlock things? Only thing the sonic doesn't work on, and people and always using them. Well, it doesn't do wood either, but that's beside the point and..." the Doctor stopped suddenly, staring intently at Clara. "How did you do that?"

Whilst the Doctor had rambled, Clara had kneeled down on the floor and pulled out some wires. She had then proceeded to pick the lock. "Jenny taught me, it was pretty easy to learn." Clara answered, smirking up at the Doctor's incredulous face. Then both their faces turned serious again as they opened and stepped through the door.

Clara gasped in surprise at the sight before them. Dim lights illuminated two rows of cells; their thick steel bars stuck deep in both the floor and the ceiling. This area felt less like a roughly hewn passage and more deliberately intimidating; created to generate fear. The floor was flat, and there was no dust in sight. The walls of the cells were covered in pieces of equipment, some of which Clara recognised and some that were completely alien to her. There was a cell that held only whips, and – to Clara's disgust – some of the whips had dried blood stuck to their ends. In other cells there were rows of knives and bats, and some were completely empty – save a small hole in the ground in one corner. There were carvings in the walls of these empty cells, and as she looked Clara saw the meaningless scribbles transform into English words (thanks to the TARDIS translation matrix). There were many dates scratched into the walls, as well as what appeared to be names. Another frequent occurrence was 'Help'. In the cell closest to the large door they came to next, it was all that was written.

"What is all of this for?" Clara asked, her voice shaking slightly, imagining what could be done to someone with the equipment down here.

"Torture. Whoever is here wants to know something. Something important..." The Doctor trailed off, and Clara's head snapped up as she heard a noise from the other side of the door in front of her. A key turning in a lock. The door swung open.

**A.N: **Hello again people. Well, I promised an update by Friday, and I have delivered! Obviously. And with a cliffhanger, because I love cliffhangers :)  
Anyway, thank you to jjjc (the guest reviewer) for the encouragement and to everyone who reads this _**please review**_ because they are epic and help me loads with my writing (and confidence). Anyway, next, I have a question: Who do you think will be appearing from behind that door? I'll tell you that it's someone who's been on the show before (dead giveaway).  
-Weird :)

_Updated: 15/6/2013_


	6. Chapter 5

The Doctor grabbed Clara's hand and dragged her to the side, pulling her through the open doorway of the 'Help' cell. They watched, nervous, as a dark figure made its way out of the door, followed by several more. They all wore black suits with white collars, and they moved with an eerie grace.

"Silence" The Doctor breathed, pressing his body further into the wall, with Clara copying his movements.

"I'm being silent!" Clara whispered back, slightly agitated, and more than a little bit scared.

"No, those creatures, they're called the 'Silence'. Well, they're not, that's just the name of their... religion, but they don't seem to have another name." He replied quickly. The two watched as the Silence walked into one of the cells and reappeared moments later with large black boxes. They walked back through the door, thankfully not seeing the Doctor and Clara hiding in the shadows just to their left. The door closed, and they heard the click of the lock, before they both let out huge breaths.

Clara looked around in confusion "Wait, Doctor why are we pressed against the wall? And what's that on your arm?" The Doctor looked down at his arm. There were tally marks, followed by a short sentence: "Silence, hyphen, taking boxes from fourth cell on right" he read aloud, before sprinting over to the specified cell and darting inside.

"Doctor, what's going on? And what do you mean by 'Silence'?"

The Doctor's head appeared around the cell door. "The Silence are a, sort of, religious organisation who are mainly made up of a species that – as far as I know – has no name and is memory-proof. As Mr Pond once wonderfully put it 'It's like they edit themselves out of your memory as soon as you look away'. Not exactly a technical explanation, but it's basically what happens."

"So they were here?"

"Yep, I don't know why yet. The last time I saw them was when time collapsed. They were working with Madame Kovarian. She stole Melody Pond from me." The Doctor muttered, fully stepping out of the cell.

"Who's Melody Pond?" Clara asked.

"You know her as River Song."

"River? As in; your wife River?"

"The one and only. But that's not the point; the Silence want to kill me and–"

"They what!" Clara yelled, her eyes widening.

"They want to kill me. Always have. Something to do with Trenzalore and the 'Fall of the Eleventh'." The Doctor replied, scratching the back of his neck before cautiously looking up into her eyes.

"Trenzalore? You mean the place where..."

"Yes. Dorium, an old friend of mine, said that 'on the fields of Trenzalore, at the fall of the Eleventh, when no living creature can speak falsely or fail to answer, a question will be asked'. The Silence were created to stop that from happening. So far they haven't succeeded."

"Why are they called the 'Silence' thought?" Clara asked "And what is the question?"

"They're called the Silence because they believe that 'Silence will – or must, as Dorium put it – fall when the question is asked." The Doctor dropped his gaze, "And the question is 'Doctor who?'" he muttered. Clara looked at the Doctor, stepping forward slightly to try to make eye contact with him. His face was drawn and his eyes were downcast.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked." Clara murmured.

"No, it's okay, you needed to know." The Doctor said shakily, before he covered his worry with a smile. "So, back to the boxes." He said, as he ran back into the cell. Clara heard a lot of clanking and scraping, as well as a loud 'Ow!' before an "Aha!" and the Doctor emerged with a strange looking needle.

"What is that?" Clara asked.

"It's a needle. A very specific needle. It fits into a hydroliser, which is nothing like a hydrolyser, even though they are spelt almost the same. A hydroliser is a 52nd century medical instrument which can help to hydrate a person. It needs a very specific needle to reach the specific cells in the body."

"So why would these Silence need one?" Clara questioned.

"Let's find out." The Doctor replied, moving to the door and using the sonic on it before stepping through, beckoning Clara to follow in. They found themselves in another long cavern, although this one did not have cells lining the walls. Instead, there were lots of military uniforms, guns and, unsurprisingly, eye-drives. "Here, put this on." The Doctor said, walking over to the shelf where the eye-drives were and grabbing a few, placing some in his pocket before turning and giving one to Clara. "It'll help you to remember the Silence, it acts as external memory." The pair continued onwards, through the next few rooms, before they came to a door that was larger than the others.

"What's through there?" Clara quizzed.

"If I had to guess, I'd say the next room will be the main room." The Doctor replied, shuffling slightly from foot to foot.

"Okay then, so what do we do?"

"Well, I suppose we've gotta say hello." The Doctor replied.

"What, just walk in there?"

"Have you got any better ideas?"

"Get out of here as fast as we can?" Clara fired back.

"Why? Don't you want to know who's doing this?"

"No, I don't, because they want to kill you!" Clara's voice was getting louder and louder, and her face showed anger, worry and... fear. The Doctor stepped towards her and wrapped his long arms around her small body. Clara was unresponsive for a moment, before she sank into his embrace and closed her eyes; burying her face in his chest.

"I won't let them kill me." The Doctor muttered into her hair. "I promise." Clara squeezed him tighter, then let go and stepped back. They turned towards the door, looked at each other, seized each other's hand, and then squared their shoulders to the door. The Doctor pointed his sonic screwdriver at the lock, which clicked, before he once again looked at Clara. "Geronimo"

The Doctor swung the door open, and faced the next room. It was a huge hangar, with steel walls and long rectangular tables pushed up to one side. There was a small stage at the front, which, at present, was unoccupied. In the room there were hundreds of men and women in army uniforms milling about. Many of the held guns and all of them wore eye-drives. A few of the soldiers turned around as the door opened, and this centre of attention made the rest look as well. As the soldiers' eyes turned towards them there was a shout, before they surrounded them.

"Someone notify Madame Kovarian." One of the soldiers shouted.

"Ah, so it is Kovarian," The Doctor said "I was hoping it wouldn't be."

"Doctor, what's happening?" Clara whispered; her eyes wide. She was clinging to his hand for dear life, and was shaking, though it was almost unnoticeable. They watched at the soldiers relayed their order before they parted as a figure strode forward.

"Well, Doctor, we meet again" Kovarian said.

"What are you doing on this planet?" The Doctor asked sharply, ignoring her introduction.

"We needed somewhere inescapable. We have a very... specific prisoner." Kovarian turned to a man behind her. "Bring in the girl" She said abruptly, before turning back to the Doctor and Clara. "I hope you'll like her; she's wanted to meet you for a very long time." They waited for a few moments, then a door to the side of the hangar opened, and a young girl was pulled forward.

Kovarian smiled cruelly; "Meet Scarlett, our resident Time Lady."

**A.N:** Hello again Peoples. Sorry for the lack of update, but I had no access to a computer over the weekend and I was only half-way through the chapter yesterday, so I left it to today. Thanks to the people who reviewed the last chapter with answers to my question. And well done to KLR (guest reviewer) for guessing that it was Scarlett's captors. Anyway, _**please review**_, and I will try to get the next chapter up ASAP :). Anyway, back to Scarlett's POV for half of the next chapter, and the story really kicks off after that. I think it'll only be about 5 more chapters long, unless anyone wants me to continue.  
-Weird :)

_Updated: 15/6/2013_


	7. Chapter 6

I don't know why they're here now. They're not supposed to come in for another day; they leave me for a week after they examine me, and then heal me again, only to repeat the process. You'd think that after three years of this they'd have learned all they could, but apparently not. They aren't alone this time; they've got some people in camouflage with them. I can remember these people easily, but remembering the tall ones is nearly impossible. I think they must be memory-proof.

They're taking the restraints off of me now. I can see them leaning over my ankles and wrists, and one of the soldiers is undoing the belt around my waist. That's what they are – I remember now – soldiers. They work for the tall ones. The... the... Silence. That's it; the Silence. Oh, why is it so difficult to remember things?

I can feel myself being lifted. It's strange; like it's my body the soldiers are lifting, and my mind is just tagging along for the ride. They place my feet on the ground, and my knees buckle instantly; the muscles almost non-existent after so long being tied to a table, with the only walks being months apart. They haul me up, and two of the shorter soldiers put their arms under my shoulders to keep me upright. I can hardly feel it; the ground doesn't feel solid, the arms don't feel real; it all feels like it's happening to someone else.

They drop their arms from my shoulders as we reach the main door. Instead, they grab my forearms and drag me into the room. I can't see very far in front of me; there are hundreds of soldiers all huddled around the other key entryway. They make a large channel for me as I am pulled through the crowd. I gave up looking around after the first try, so I can't see what's in front of me.

My ears register a slight noise: "Meet Scarlett; our resident Time Lady." I think it's that woman... Kovarian? Yes, Kovarian. She's talking about me; maybe I should look. I'll just lift my head up and... Yes, I can see! I look around, and find Kovarian standing about five metres in front of me. There aren't any Silence in the room; just a lot of soldiers. And standing in front of the secondary entryway are some new people. I don't know who they are; the woman's short with brown hair and the man is taller. He's wearing a bowtie.

I hear Kovarian mumble something, then there's a strange feeling in my arm, before it all seems to come into focus. I'm standing in a room full of Clerics, Madame Kovarian is standing next to me and I've just been injected with an anti-drug. And the two people in front of me... are my parents.

Clara gasped, staring at the small form in front of her. The girl was about 4'10 and looked like a stick figure. Her clothes hung off her like rags, and she had lots of scars on her arms. Her skin was a pale almost grey-ish colour and her dark brown hair was matted and dull. Her eyes seemed clouded over, but Clara watched one of the soldiers inject her, and they lit up almost instantly. Bright hazel eyes surveyed the room; passing fleeting glances at the soldiers and Madame Kovarian, before coming to a stop on the Doctor and Clara. Clara saw a flash of recognition cross the girl's eyes, before she turned to Madame Kovarian.

"What are they doing here?" She asked harshly, her voice low and scratchy.

"My dear Scarlett; I don't know." Kovarian said patronisingly. "Why don't we ask them?" Kovarian turned away from the girl again. "Why are you here, Doctor?" but the Doctor didn't reply. Clara nudged him slightly, spinning to face him when he didn't respond. His eyes were locked on the girl; running up and down her body, calculating everything.

"Doctor? Doctor!"

"What, yes, oh sorry. What is it?" The Doctor replied, shaking himself out of his trace.

"I said, Doctor, why are you here?" Kovarian interrupted.

"I got a message. I distress signal. I thought I'd investigate." The Doctor replied, releasing his hand from Clara's grasp and instead slipping his arm around her; pulling her small body into him.

"Well, you can't have gotten it from here; there are no communication devices on this planet." Kovarian replied.

"The TARDIS tracked the signal here. And the TARDIS doesn't get things wrong." The Doctor replied.

"And what form of signal did it track?" Kovarian asked.

"A psychic message." The Doctor replied, and watched as Kovarian spun to face the girl beside her.

"I knew it; what did you do?" Kovarian shouted, leaning forward so she towered over the girl. Scarlett shrank backwards slightly, but her face showed defiance.

"I didn't do anything!" Scarlett yelled. "How do you know it was me anyway?"

"You're the only telepathic being on this planet; who else could it be?" Kovarian screeched.

"I don't know, maybe one of your soldiers!" Scarlett replied. The Doctor was frozen, watching the argument before him. He yelled out as Kovarian went to hit the girl.

"No! Don't you dare hit her." The Doctor shouted, and ran forward, dragging Clara with him. He reached Kovarian, who had turned towards him when he spoke.

"Well Doctor, I didn't think you cared about anyone else."

"I care about a lot of people Kovarian." The Doctor replied, pulling Clara further into his side when he saw Kovarian glance at her.

"So you say. But I don't think that gesture was because you cared." Kovarian retorted.

"You said she was a Time Lady. Prove it." The Doctor replied, glaring at Kovarian.

"Scarlett, come here." Kovarian demanded. The girl walked to them, and Kovarian grabbed her shoulders and dragged her in front of the Doctor. He towered over her by a foot, but the girl didn't back down.

"Scarlett, isn't it?" The Doctor queried, and the girl nodded. The Doctor reached towards her, and Scarlett flinched slightly, before she stood still and he placed his hand over the right side of her chest. He then moved his hand to the right, and his eye widened. "Time Lord."

"Time Lady actually, and yes. Why do you think we're holding her here?" Kovarian said, but the Doctor ignored her.

"What have you done to her?" He questioned, gesturing to the scars on Scarlett's arms.

"Just a bit of experimentation. We needed to know what a Time Lord was like; weaknesses, et cetera. It's all in the name of science."

"You'd cut up a child in the name of Science?" Clara asked incredulously. "That's just sick."

"Not that they care." Scarlett muttered, but only the Doctor and Clara heard.

Kovarian ignored Clara's comment; addressing the Doctor instead. "How about I give you some time to catch up with the wonderful Scarlett." She said scornfully and signalled to the clerics standing behind her. They advanced on the Doctor and Clara, having grabbed Scarlett almost immediately. The Doctor attempted to use his sonic screwdriver on their guns, but it was ineffective. One of the Clerics latched onto Clara and tried to pull her away from the Doctor. The Doctor spun, knocking the soldier off of Clara and pulling her into his chest protectively. He looked around, and – seeing no accessible exit – stopped fighting. The clerics captured them, then turned towards Kovarian. "Take them to a cell. Give them some time to get to know each other." With that, the three were led back through the secondary entrance, towards the cells.

**A.N:** Hello people! Sorry about the lack of update; life got in the way. the next chapter should be up in the next few days, because I have some inspiration at the moment (which doesn't happen very often). Anyway, short-ish chapter here, but I promise the next one will be to rycbarm123 for reviewing the last chapter; I need some reassurance that people actually like this story, and you gave that to me :). Anyway, _**please**_ **_review_****, **and the next chapter will be up soon.  
-Weird :)

_Updated; 15/6/2013_


	8. Chapter 7

"In here." One of the clerics said gruffly, shoving the Doctor and Clara through the barred door of the 'Help' cell.

"You'll feel right at home in here." Sneered another as Scarlett was pushed through the door. She stopped in the middle of the cell, watching as the clerics slammed the door closed, before turning and stumbling into the corner of the cell.

"Are you hurt?" The woman's voice sounded concerned, and for a minute Scarlett could imagine that this was the Clara she knew. But the image was shattered when she lifted her head from where it hung.

"I'm fine." Scarlett replied brusquely, turning away again.

"No you're not, you were limping." Clara replied, stepping towards Scarlett. Scarlett shifted away slightly, and Clara stopped her advance.

"I'm fine," she repeated, "just leave me alone, please."

Clara watched as the girl settled into the corner, curling into herself. She turned to the Doctor, who was standing next to the door and seemed to be attempting to pick the lock.

"It's no use; they've taken the sonic and this is a triple deadbolt. Nothing's going to open that thing." The Doctor complained, kicking the door, then yowling and grabbing his foot. Clara laughed as he jumped up and down on the spot, clutching his toe and complaining about the strength of steel. Eventually Clara sat down on the floor; leaning against the wall opposite Scarlett. She watched the young girl, whose gaze was constantly flickering between the Doctor and herself.

"How old are you?" Clara asked suddenly, making Scarlett's head snap up.

"Fifteen, I think. I'm not really sure. They used to change torture methods every year, but then... well, since I was twelve they've been doing the same thing." Scarlett replied quietly.

"How old were you when they brought you here?" Clara enquired.

"Two"

Clara's eyes widened and she looked incredulously at the teenager. "Two? Two years old?"

"Yep." Scarlett replied, staring at the floor while she waited for Clara to ingest this information. The Doctor was leaning against the door, his eyes on the ground; but Scarlett could tell that he was listening intently. "They didn't start torturing me til I was four though. They just tried to brainwash me at first." Clara was disgusted by this thought, and wanted to comfort Scarlett; but she first had to gain her trust.

"What about your parents?" Clara asked. As she said it, she saw Scarlett freeze up, and she seemed unable to say anything; but it only lasted for a moment.

"I never knew my father." Scarlett replied, and the words seemed to hurt her, but the expression on her face when she made the next comment showed her pain clearly. "My mother's dead."

The girl's small face crumpled as she spoke, and she clenched her eyes shut; burying her face in her elbow. Clara scooted forward quietly, "I know how you feel. My mum died when I was a bit older than you." She murmured, reaching out a hand to pat the girl on the shoulder. Her hand halted in its movement as Scarlett jerked away; pressing herself tightly against the wall. Clara frowned, slightly taken aback, but she moved about a metre away from the girl. When she noticed that the teenager wasn't going to talk anymore, Clara got up and walked to the Doctor.

"What do you think about her?" Clara whispered, grabbing lightly onto the Doctor's arm. She had noticed him observing the entire exchange with evaluating grey-green eyes.

"I don't know. She seems almost as much of a mystery as you were." The Doctor replied quietly, not taking his eyes off the girl.

"She was scared of me." Clara stated.

"If you had been tortured by people since you were four, wouldn't you be scared of human contact? This girl hasn't had a person comfort her for thirteen years. She probably doesn't even know what it is." The Doctor said sadly, his head finally turning to face Clara.

"She's really a Time Lord then?" Clara asked.

"I think so. Not many other species have two hearts, and out of them only Time Lords are telepathic."

"Is that how she sent that message then?" Clara quizzed quietly.

"Yeah, it was telepathic. That's what the psychic paper picks up." The Doctor replied, and he and Clara made a silent agreement to sit down. He sunk to the floor, his back leaning against the cell door, and Clara's head leaning against his shoulder as she curled into him.

After a few minutes, the Doctor spoke again. "We haven't talked about what happened."

"What is there to talk about?" Clara dismissed. "I jumped into your time-stream; you jumped in and got me out."

"Clara, you died thousands of times just to save me, you have thousands of lives in your head. How much of that do you remember?"

"Not much really; only the times when I met you. Everything else is a little blurry." Clara replied, trailing off, before taking a big breath. "I remember Gallifrey though." She said hesitantly.

The Doctor nodded slightly, before doing a double-take. "Gallifrey?" He exclaimed loudly, making Scarlett look up for a second. "As in, my home planet Gallifrey?" Clara nodded. "When?"

"The earliest I knew you. You looked really old then, and you had your granddaughter with you. You were doing to choose the wrong TARDIS." Clara murmured, and the Doctor's eyes widened in realisation.

"That was you, wasn't it?" He asked rhetorically. "So... how did you die there?" He asked cautiously.

"The Time War." Clara answered, her lip trembling. The Doctor pulled her closer as the tears started flowing, but she didn't make a sound. When she'd finally composed herself, Clara pulled away a touch. "It hurt, so much. I-I died and-"

The Doctor hushed her, before pulling her into his lap. "You don't need to say it, I understand." The said softly, wrapping his arms around her, and Clara just buried her face in the crook of his neck.

Scarlett watched on from the corner of the cell, as her mother fell asleep in her father's arms; neither aware of her identity. Or her existence.

**A.N:** Hello People! I updated on time! Well... sort of. Sorry about how short this chapter is, but I wanted to update this and I have an exam tomorrow morning so I need to sleep. Anyway, I think I sorted out what had become a bit of a plothole (the whole; Doctor and Clara talk it out bit). It's short (as said), so sorry about that, but I think it fixes that problem.  
Anyway, **2 questions**. **1)** Do you think/Are there any plotholes or confusing bits in this story that I need to sort out? And **2)** Should I continue to write in Scarlett's POV or just do it all in 3rd person from now on?  
_**Please review**_ (or PM me)with any answers, and I'll try to post the next chapter by Thursday (no promises).  
-Weird :)

_Updated: 15/6/2013_


	9. Chapter 8

They don't know who I am. It's not fair. After all these years I finally find my parents – finally look my mother in the eye again – and there isn't even a flicker of recognition. She obviously doesn't remember, assuming that this is post-Trenzalore anyway. I think it probably is; judging by the bits I heard of their earlier conversation. She was talking about Gallifrey. I wonder what Gallifrey is. He said I was his home planet. Does that make it my home planet too? I don't think so. I don't have a home planet at all; or at least, not yet.

How old would my mother be now? She was 24 when I was born; so about 39. Goodness; that makes her sound old. She isn't old now though. She isn't old enough to know me. I felt it, you know. There was a force I could feel when she almost touched me. I don't think she noticed it, and I don't think he did either. I think it's called something like the Blinovitch Limitation effect; I heard that in one of my first lives, when my mother worked for the Time Agency. Anyway, it means I can't touch another version of me.

I'm watching them now, the Doctor and Clara. Clara is curled up asleep with her head on his chest, and he's got his arms wrapped tightly around her small body. I wish he would hold me like that; that's what fathers are supposed to do, isn't it? No, I can't keep calling him my father. I'll slip up and then they'll know. And I don't know what they'll do then.

I can see the Doctor turning to me after staring at Clara's sleeping face for a while. His eyes tense when he sees me looking, and he pulls Clara just a little bit closer to him. I just stare back at him with a mildly annoyed look on my face. He seems to take this as reassurance, because although his arms don't loosen their grip around Clara, his eyes soften slightly.

"Are you really a Time Lord?" He asks me, and I reply with a nod, then frown.

"Well, I'm at least part Time Lord anyway." I say quietly, looking down. Wait; that's the first words I've ever spoken to my father. I smile, and look back up at him. He's looking at me with a slight frown, as if trying to figure out my thoughts. "I'm not from... Gallifrey isn't it? I'm from Earth." His eyes widen at this.

"You don't know about Gallifrey?" He asks, shocked, and I shake my head sadly, staring at the floor. "Hey," he says softly, and the tone of his voice makes me look up, "that's okay. I can tell you about it if you want?" He's leaning forward slightly now, and his grip on Clara has loosened.

I nod, smile, and watch him as he begins his story. "Gallifrey was in a binary star system in the constellation of Kasterborous. The second star rose in the south in the morning, making the mountains glow. The main star was huge and a beautiful golden red. The system had five other planets, the biggest were Karn and Polarfrey, and there was an asteroid called Kasterborous the Fibster. Gallifrey had two big moons and a ring system – a bit like Saturn's – and one of the moons was Pazithi Gallifreya, which was copper-coloured and shone so brightly it could even be seen during the day." The Doctor's face lights up as he speaks, and a smile spreads on his face as he continues. "And the sky was orange, there were fields of red grass, and trees with silver leaves that reflected the morning sunlight, making it look like the forests were on fire. And there were green forests and snow-caped mountains and golden fields and red deserts." I watch as his smile turns sad. "But it's all gone now."

I want to know more, but I can tell by the way he's pulling Clara closer to him that that's all he's going to say for now. It's more than I expected, and I can't help but try to piece this picture together; get an idea of this planet that my father loves so much. I feel my eyelids start to droop and the Doctor obviously saw too, because his next words to me are, "Get some sleep. I'll keep watch." And with a warm feeling in my stomach, I drift into sleep.

**A.N:** I am so sorry for the really short chapter, and for the fact that it's only Scarlett's POV, but there are two reasons. 1) I wanted to update today because I said I would, and 2) I wanted to know; should write a bit from the Doctor's POV? If you think I should, _**please review**_ and tell me, and I will have it up by Friday (tomorrow). Otherwise I'll just write from this point and the next update will probably be Saturday or Sunday. Anyway, please review, and I shall update as soon as you lot choose.  
-Weird :)

P.S: Thank you to all the people who reviewed last chapter; It got more reviews than any of my others! :D

_Updated: 15/6/2013_


	10. Chapter 9

I watch Clara's beautiful face as she sleeps. She looks so peaceful. But she could be hurt so easily. Too easily; she's so fragile, like glass, and I feel like she's going to break. But I stare at her sleeping face, and make myself a promise. Whatever happens here, I will get Clara out. Even if I don't make it, I need to keep her safe.

I look up at the girl on the other side of the cell. She's watching me with piercing hazel eyes. What if she isn't a Time Lord? What if this is really just an elaborate trap? I pull Clara's small body further into my chest, my arms wrapped tightly around her. The girl must have seen me move, because now she's looking a little bit annoyed. The look reminds me so much of one Clara gives me when I'm being stupid, and the genuine emotion there is enough to convince me she's being honest. But I keep Clara close to me all the same.

"Are you really a Time Lord?" The words spill out of my mouth before I can stop them, but I just continue to stare at the girl. She nods slightly, then her eyebrows crease and she looks at the ground.

"Well, I'm at least part Time Lord anyway." She says quietly, then her eyes widen and she smiles, looking back at me. Why did she smile? Is she happy because she convinced me? Why else would she smile? "I'm not from... Gallifrey isn't it? I'm from Earth." These words shock me. A Time Lord that doesn't even know about Gallifrey? That doesn't know the name of its species' home planet?

"You don't know about Gallifrey?" Again the words slip out without permission. My tone is a mix of disbelief and superiority, and I feel terrible as I watch her head drop and her eyes turn sad. "Hey," I start softly, my tone the opposite of moments ago. The girl looks up at me, and I can see in her eyes a mixture of guilt, sadness and shame. It's this look that convinces me, and I gather the courage to offer something I've not shared in hundreds of years; "that's okay. I can tell you about it if you want?" I ask, and the look of hope in her eyes as she smiles and nods at me makes me think I made the right decision.

"Gallifrey was in a binary star system in the constellation of Kasterborous." I say, thinking about the last time I spoke of this; on a crashing starliner with a terribly appropriate name. "The second star rose in the south in the morning, making the mountains glow." I can picture it; the mountains glowing red-orange in the light. "The main star was huge and a beautiful golden red. The system had five other planets, the biggest were Karn and Polarfrey, and there was an asteroid called Kasterborous the Fibster." I smile, thinking of the inspiration for that name. "Gallifrey had two big moons and a ring system – bit like Saturn's – and one of the moons was Pazithi Gallifreya, which was copper-coloured and shone so brightly it could even be seen during the day." I feel the happiness at finally being able to speak about my planet. It's like a floodgate has been opened, and I just have to tell someone. I continue; "And the sky was orange, there were fields of red grass, and trees with silver leaves that reflected the morning sunlight, making it look like the forests were on fire. And there were green forests and snow-caped mountains and golden fields and red deserts." I say, getting more and more excited as I go on. But then it all comes crashing down, and my shoulders slump as the weight of what I've done returns. "But it's all gone now."

I pull Clara's tiny frame closer to me, desperate for comfort, and also to comfort her. She was in the Time War. She was on Gallifrey, and she died on Gallifrey. And it was my fault. If I could have stopped her from jumping, or gotten rid of the Great Intelligence properly last time we met none of this would have happened! But then I wouldn't have gone looking for her: I would never have met my Clara.

I am pulled from my thoughts when I notice the girl's eyelids fluttering. I don't feel I can sleep yet, so I just mutter, "Get some sleep. I'll keep watch" and she smiles slightly as her eyes close. I find myself continuing to watch her as she sleeps; her long brown hair – the same shade of brown as mine – is dull and matted, but you can still see the little waves in it. Her face looks softer in sleep, and her skin doesn't seem to be stretched as thin. She's definitely underweight; and I guess by the scars on her arms that she was telling the truth about the torture. I wonder how a child would cope with that. She said she was four when they started to torture her, so they must have tried to gain her trust to begin with.

She said she was at least part Time Lord. I think that means she must be part human, because she said she was born on Earth. So where did the Time Lord come from? I haven't had any other married couples on the TARDIS, not recently anyway, so she's probably not like River. She could be a Time Lord/Human child, but the only ones who escaped were the Master and me. Hang on! The Master had a wife... but she died. Well, there goes that theory. Who is she?

I watch as the girl sighs in her sleep, her face calm. I look back at Clara suddenly as I feel her shift, and see warm brown eyes staring up at me.

"Morning." I whisper, smiling gently. Clara blinks rapidly as her eyes try to focus on me.

"Is it?" She asks in a scratchy voice as she closes her eyes again.

"No, not really." I reply with a slight smile. She's absolutely adorable when she's half-asleep, and she buries her head further into my chest. I place two fingers under her chin and lift her head up. She remains stubborn, her eyes closed, so I place a soft kiss on her lips. I feel her smile as I pull away, her eyes opening, and I return the gesture. The next second, her face in buried back in my chest, and I give her a kiss on her soft brown hair as she murmurs a tired "Goodnight then" And her breathing returns to a slow, even tempo.

**A.N:** Morning People (or afternoon. Either way). So, this chapter was again a bit short, but it was in the Doctor's POV (in case you hadn't guessed). Now, I would like people to answer 1 question. Did I fail the Doctor's POV? If I did, please tell me any I will never write it again. If you think I went alright, then please let me know and I may consider doing this again. Either way, be as critical as you want; as long as you don't just write 'It sucked'. If you think it did, give a reason.  
Anyway, as always, thankyou to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, and the next chapter will probably be up sometime over the weekend.  
-Weird :)

_Updated: 15/6/2013_


	11. Chapter 10

Clara awoke with a jolt, memories rushing through her head. She tried desperately to hold on to them, but the images slipped out of her grasp, fading into nothingness. She sighed, causing the Doctor to look down at her. "You're awake then?" he asked.

"I suppose so. Did I miss anything?" Clara queried.

"Not much, but keep your voice down; Scarlett's still asleep." Clara glanced over at the corner, and saw Scarlett curled up with her head on her hands and her eyes closed.

"How long has it been?" Clara asked, turning back to the Doctor.

"What, since you fell asleep? Six hours. We've been here for about seven." The Doctor replied.

"What are they going to do to us now then?"

"I don't know." The Doctor replied. "But whatever it is, I won't let them hurt you." Clara smiled slightly at the Doctor's words, knowing he would keep that promise to the best of his ability. She suddenly heard footsteps behind the door, and the Doctor heard them too, as he lifted his arms from around Clara and allowed her to stand up. The Doctor stood beside her, both of them backing away as they watched through the cell bars, seeing a troop of Clerics enter; Madame Kovarian following. The Doctor stepped in front of Clara, and watched out of the corner of his eye as Scarlett stood.

"Get them out." Madame Kovarian ordered, and a cleric warned them to stay back before he opened the steel door. Guns were aimed at them through the bars on either side of the door, and the three prisoners walked cautiously out of the cell.

The Doctor was instantly hauled away from Clara, who was grabbed by one of the taller Clerics and lifted off the ground. She screamed and kicked, but was ignored as they tied first her wrists and then her feet together. The Doctor was yelling at them to let her go, but the Clerics simply pulled a gag over his mouth; silencing his protests. Scarlett was being held by two of the Clerics, but she wasn't fighting back; just standing there.

"What are you doing?" Scarlett asked, turning her head to glare at Madame Kovarian.

"We're giving the Doctor an incentive." Kovarian said, then she addressed the Doctor patronisingly. "Are you going to be good now?" She asked, and the Doctor gave her a death-glare, but one of the Clerics moved closer to Clara with his gun and the Doctor nodded reluctantly. "Okay, then let him speak."

Once the gag was removed the Doctor's first words were, "Let Clara go."

"No" Kovarian answered, smirking, watching as the Doctor's eyes showed his distress for his companion. "Not until you answer some questions."

"What do you want to know?" The Doctor ground out, sending glances over at Clara every now and again to check that she was okay.

"How much do you know about dear Scarlett?" Kovarian asked.

"Not much. We had a bit of a chat earlier." The Doctor replied.

Kovarian addressed Scarlett again. "So you didn't tell them." Scarlett sent her a scalding look, but the woman only laughed and looked back at the Doctor. "Well, I suppose I won't spoil your fun. I don't know how he'll react when he finds out."

"Finds out what?" The Doctor asked, then yelled out as Clara was kicked in the back by one of the Clerics. She whimpered, curling into a small ball on the ground. "What did you do that for?" The Doctor yelled, outraged.

"You spoke out of turn. Don't, or they'll keep hurting her. Now, question two: How much do you know about Trenzalore?"

"Enough." Was the Doctor's only reply, and then Clara yelped as she was kicked again; this time in the side. "Fine, fine, I'll tell you, just don't hurt her! I know that Trenzalore is where the 'question' is asked, I know that that's the reason you want to kill me and I know it's where I die." The Doctor rattled off, his attention focused solely on Clara.

"Better. Now, I think I'll leave you alone for the rest of the day." Kovarian said. "You can ask one question, and then I'll leave." The Doctor's mind raced over possibilities, but in the end one thing stood out from the rest.

"Can I ask you never to hurt Clara again?"

The effect was instantaneous. Madame Kovarian had no sooner gestured to the Clerics before they surrounded Clara and began to punch and kick her. Some grabbed bats from the nearby cells and some just continued to beat her with their bare hands. Clara's yelps turned into coughs and hiccups as she struggled to breathe. There was a loud crack at one point, and Clara let out a gut-wrenching scream. The Doctor's cries mingled with hers, but Kovarian only watched his pain with a sick smile on her face.

Suddenly, Scarlett screamed above everyone else, her high voice cutting through the din. "Stop!" The cry was shrill, and caused both Kovarian and the Doctor to turn to her. Silent tears cascaded down the girl's cheeks, and she looked at Kovarian with pleading eyes. "Please don't hurt her."

Kovarian said nothing, simply gesturing to her men to put them back in their cell. The Doctor and Scarlett were pushed through the door first, Clara thrown in after them, and then the door was slammed closed. The Doctor wasted no time in rushing to Clara; undoing the restraints around her wrists and ankles before laying her down on the floor. Scarlett had retreated to the corner of the cell again, and she stared out, looking fearful.

"Aren't you going to help?" The Doctor yelled, and Scarlett flinched at the desperation in his voice.

"I can't." Scarlett cried, tears still flowing from her eyes. "I wish I could, but I can't."

"Why not?" The Doctor barked. Scarlett only shook her head in response, glaring at the ground. The Doctor ignored her then, his focus returning to Clara. He looked up and down her small body, examining her injuries. "Can you at least find something to use as a bandage?" The Doctor croaked, his throat tightening as he surveyed Clara. Scarlett didn't reply, and the Doctor continued with his examining, trying to determine which bone had broken and where the worst of the bleeding was coming from. He started when her heard the sound of ripping cloth, and glanced at Scarlett to see the girl tearing her thin jumper to shreds; now wearing only a small t-shirt. The girl looked back up at him with sincerity in her eyes, and the Doctor returned a thankful look.

"I'm sorry Clara, but this is going to hurt." The Doctor said, kissing her thankfully blood-free forehead then regarding her body and pressing his fingers to the top of her ribs. He pressed once, then again further along. The third time he pressed his fingers down she whimpered slightly, and he frowned in discomfort, before pressing again marginally further down. The sharp shriek that Clara emitted almost made him weep, but he grasped her hand as she feebly attempted to swat his hand away. "Scarlett, I need a long bandage, now." As he spoke, his voice quivered, his hearts breaking at the pain Clara was in. He kissed the hand he held softly, waiting for Scarlett.

"Will this do?" Scarlett asked, crawling over to them and handing him a ragged strip of cloth. The Doctor grabbed the fabric from her, then carefully lifted Clara's body, eliciting another moan of pain, and laid it underneath her so that the ends stuck out on either side. Scarlett retreated back into the corner, watching as the Doctor tied the ends together tightly, apologising endlessly as Clara cried and winced, his tears now over-flowing his eyes and dripping down his cheeks.

He then began to inspect her other wounds, using bits of material to wipe and then bind her injuries. Clara tried to stay silent, but occasionally she would whimper. The Doctor was trying not to break down, seeing Clara in pain was hurting him as well. When he ran out of cloth from the jumper the Doctor finally looked at Clara properly. All of the major cuts were bandaged, but it wouldn't be long before her blood soaked through the thin material; some of the strips were already turning red. The Doctor scooped Clara into his arms, walking over to the far corner opposite Scarlett, and placing her gently on the floor. He kept her body straight, and put her head in his lap, gently stroking her hair.

"Sleep, my Clara." He murmured, kissing her on the forehead. Her eyes closed slowly, and her breathing evened out.

"What are you going to do?" Scarlett's soft voice broke the silence.

"I'll make them fix her." The Doctor replied, continuing to stroke Clara's hair. "I have to."

**A.N: **Hello People! I'm so sorry for what I did to Clara, but I had to (the bad thing was that I quite enjoyed writing this chapter). On the plus side, it is a longer chapter again. On the minus side, my story is now writing itself. Granted, I didn't really have a solid plan in my head, but still. Anyway, thank you so much to everyone who reviewed my last chapter, because I was really nervous about it. This chapter's question is: How old do you think I am? I gave a big clue last chapter, but I'm curious to see how old people think I am.  
Anyway, _**please **__**review**__,_ and I should have the next chapter up soon.  
-Weird :)


	12. Chapter 11

This is killing me. I can't help them. I can't help my own mother because I can't touch her. I had to watch her scream in pain, and I couldn't do anything about it if I tried. I can see her now, with her head in my father's lap, sleeping fitfully. One of her ribs is broken, and she has so many cuts that I'm wondering whether she'll make it through the night. At least, I think it's night; you can never tell down here.

I'm worried. I'm worried they won't help her. I'm worried that she'll die, because then I'll die too. Not this me; the real me. But I'm worried about the other alternative as well. Because if they fix her, like he wants them to, they'll find out. They'll find out who I really am. They chose me because I was the child of someone the Doctor knew. They were going to use me as bait. It just turns out they hit the jackpot, because I'm part Time Lord as well. Two birds with one stone. And they've figured out who I am to him from all those tests they did. But they don't know who Clara is to me. If they find out, they'll kill her. They won't want me alive. Not the real me. Because that would give him a reason to keep going. More than just Clara; an almost immortal reason to keep going. If the Doctor has a child he will fight to keep her alive. And that will bring him to Trenzalore.

I saw the look in Kovarian's eyes when I said I hadn't told them. She was relieved. She knows what he'll do when he finds out who I am. She knows what he'll do to her. Because it's one thing taking the child of his best friends, but his own daughter; even though I'm just an echo... Well, she won't live long after he finds out.

So I'm confused. And scared. Because I want Clara to be okay, but I don't want my father finding out who I am. I think he's halfway there already, because he could see how much I wanted to help her, but I physically couldn't. He mustn't know Clara's condition. If he did, he would have fought so much harder to get away from those men; to get to her. To get to _me_.

* * *

I look down at her face, her beautiful little face, but all I can focus on is the red. The red blood dripping down from the cut on her cheek, spilling out of the gash on her chin. Her face is pale; the usually tan skin white. I'm scared, properly scared. It's been two hours, and she's lost so much blood; some of the bandages are a bright red now. The only good thing is that she hasn't got a concussion. I can let her sleep, without having to make sure she doesn't fall into a coma. But she needs more blood soon, because I can tell she hasn't got long left.

I don't know what I'll do if she dies. I think I'd go back to my cloud, or just jump into a supernova. But she wouldn't want me to, so how could I go against that? She'd want me to keep on going; my Clara. My Clara, who's definitely smaller on the outside, with bigger heart than almost anyone. Who died over and over for me. Now she's dying again, but this time there is no need. If she dies now I won't keep going. Sure I'll probably still see her echoes, but they won't be her. They won't be my Impossible Girl, they won't know me. They'll just be like Oswin, or Victorian Clara. Never _my_ Clara.

* * *

The Doctor sat in the corner; his hands absent-mindedly stroking Clara's face and hair. Scarlett observed silently from the other corner, a frown gracing her small face. They both watched Clara intently, scanning her constantly for any changes. Scarlett noticed that her left ankle had swollen up to twice its regular size, and both her arms were mottled purple and blue with bruises. There was a gash on her thigh which was bleeding badly and had already soaked through its bandage. In all, both the Doctor and Scarlett had decided that she needed help. Now.

When the sound of the door opening reached their ears both of them sprung to their feet; the Doctor placing Clara's head on the ground first. He ran to the bars of the cell and began to yell at the Clerics that appeared.

"You have to help her! She'll die if you don't!" He cried, his hands gripping the bars.

"Well then, maybe we should just leave." Kovarian taunted, appearing from behind the door with a smirk on her face.

"If she dies I'll-"

"You'll what? What can you do Doctor? You're in a cell, and we're out here. You can't do anything. Your precious companion will die... And it will be all your fault." Kovarian sneered.

The Doctor sagged, his hands gripping the bars the only thing keeping him upright. "Please." He whispered desperately, "Please just fix her."

"Oh look at this. The Doctor, the Goblin, the Trickster, the Oncoming Storm, begging for the life of one woman! What would your enemies think of you now?" Kovarian mocked, her smirk widening into a cruel grin.

"Please, just help her..." The Doctor trailed into silence, crawling back to Clara to stroke the uninjured side of her face. All dignity forgotten, he lifted her head into his lap again and started to rock backwards and forwards, tears gushing from his eyes.

Scarlett's bottom lip was trembling. She had always perceived her father as a strong man, the strongest man she knew. But here he was, broken and on the brink of madness, clinging to his companion as the life drained out of her. "Please fix her." She begged, and her voice, although quiet, broke through the atmosphere; bringing everyone's attention to her. She had her arms around her, hugging herself, and her face showed her distress at the situation before her. Kovarian stared at her for a while, frowning.

"Bring them." She commanded, and they Clerics looked confused but obeyed her order, opening the cell and stepping forwards. Two Clerics attempted to grab Clara, but the Doctor simply pulled her into his arms; cradling her small body against his chest and glaring daggers at anyone who approached him. Scarlett's arms were locked behind her back and she was pushed ahead of a Cleric, just behind Madame Kovarian. The remaining Clerics surrounded the Doctor and they all headed through the main door, out of the cell block.

**A.N:** Hello People! Sorry for another short-ish chapter, but I wrote this today and didn't want to wait to post it. I had my last exam of the year today, so now I should have more time to update. Although, if I do update faster I'll run out of stuff to write.  
BTW. Sorry if I confused anyone this chapter with the POVs jumping around; I wanted to give the Doctor's POV another go, seeing as people said I did ok at it last time. Again, please let me know if I failed it, and I won't write the Doctor's POV again.  
In answer to the question I asked last chapter: I got three guesses, and the average of them was 20. Well, you're 6 years off; I'm actually younger than Scarlett :)  
Anyway, _**please review**_, and I will aim to have the next chapter up by Wednesday.  
-Weird :)


	13. Chapter 12

Scarlett walked behind Kovarian, matching her pace with the taller woman's. She glanced behind her and saw the Doctor – who was carrying a bleeding Clara – surrounded by Clerics. They'd been walking for a good ten minutes, and Scarlett could tell that although Clara was small and light, her dead weight would make her difficult to carry. She could already see the Doctor struggling to keep up with the Clerics' forced march. Scarlett wanted to slow down, but between the Cleric pushing her forwards and the knowledge that Clara didn't have much time left, she continued quickly.

They group wound their way through the maze of tunnels, never stopping or slowing. They passed many uniformed Clerics, who stared at them in confusion, but they saw no sign of the Silence.

"Where are they all? The Silence?" Scarlett enquired, staring directly at Madame Kovarian. The woman responded quietly without turning.

"Wherever they want to be. I have no control over them." Kovarian admitted resentfully, her pace increasing. There was no conversation after that, just the pounding of heavy boots on the ground. They continued until they reached another large door, though this one had a much more complicated lock on it.

"You're taking her to my... room?" Scarlett questioned, the last word sarcastic, "...for lack of a better word.". Kovarian simply rolled her eyes in annoyance, glaring back at the small girl, before swiping her key card and pressing her index finger to the biometric scanner. The door opened with a hiss of expelled air, sliding to the right. The group walked in and Kovarian directed the Doctor to place Clara on the small bed in the centre of the room. The Clerics lined the room, several of them blocking the door, and Scarlett's arms were released from behind her back.

The Doctor gently rested Clara on the cot, placing her head softly against the pillow. Kovarian moved towards the other side of the bed and spoke firmly "Doctor, step away from the bed." She smirked when she saw the alarm in the Doctor's eyes, but he obeyed her.

A door opened on the left hand side and two men in lab coats entered. Scarlett instinctively shied away from them, moving backwards until she was standing just beside the Doctor. He looked down at her, taking in her frightened stance and stepping marginally in front of her. Scarlett smiled slightly, then focused on the two men. They were carrying large black cases with them, which Scarlett recognised from her many examinations. She watched as they opened one of the boxes and grabbed things from it, fitting them together to create a stand of some description. They put the stand on the right of Clara; opposite where the Doctor and Scarlett were standing. From the other box the scientists produced a control box, which they clipped onto a hook on the main rod. The second object they pulled out was a scanner, similar in shape to a metal detector. They hung it from the perpendicular bar, so that it dangled about fifty centimetres above Clara. Then the two began to converse in whispers, pressing buttons on the control device, before they nodded to Kovarian. The woman replied in kind, and the men then faced the Doctor and Scarlett.

"Would you kindly please step back?" The taller of the two asked.

"What does that do?" The Doctor replied, ignoring their question.

"You wouldn't understand." The shorter scientist answered curtly.

"Try me."

"It sends a pulse of radiation that reads any abnormality in her body, as well as x-raying and zyder-scanning." The tall one returned. Seeing the look on the Doctor's face, he continued "It won't hurt her."

"It better not." The Doctor replied, finally stepping back. One of the scientists stepped forward with a shot needle and stabbed it into Clara's neck. She didn't react, and there was silence for a moment, before the lights were turned off and the scientists turned a final dial. They both moved so that their backs were almost touching the wall, and one held a remote in his hand, which he pressed.

A beam of bright blue light shot out from the top of the scanner and directly onto Clara's face. She scrunched her eyelids unconsciously against the assault of light, and stayed on her face for a moment before moving down slowly. The beam continued to move down her body, and when it reached her feet it moved slightly to the left and started to scan in the opposite direction. It switched to the right when it reached her head, scanning down before making a final run back over the middle.

The beam shut off when it reached her head for the third time, and the scientists stepped forwards, gesturing for a Cleric to turn the lights back on. When the lighting was restored the scientists began to examine the results, their eyes scanning for relevant pieces of information.

"What needs to be done?" Kovarian asked, walking up behind the men. The shorter one continued reading through the results, while the taller one turned to her.

"Madame Kovarian, the woman is in need of an A negative blood transfusion immediately. She also requires a blast from the hydroliser, a restorator and some strong painkillers for her ribs." The scientist replied.

"Thank you Dr Wentworth. Rotger, take three men and see what blood we have on offer. You'll need to bring a few boxes of painkillers as well." Kovarian addressed the Cleric standing by the door, who replied with a 'Yes ma'am' and motioned to three more Clerics before walking out of the room.

The Doctor looked urgently at the taller scientist – Dr Wentworth – who nodded smiled in understanding and silently consented. The Doctor then rushed to Clara, clasping her tiny hand in his and reaching the other up to gently caress the side of her face. He smiled when she moved, turning her head and leaning her cheek into his hand. Scarlett moved to the foot of Clara's bed, observing them wordlessly. She saw the raw affection in his eyes as her gazed down at Clara, a small smile gracing his lips.

The peace was shattered when the door opened again to reveal the returning Clerics. They each carried a box, and the leader – Rotger – directed them to place them next to each other on the floor. Dr Wentworth moved to the closest box, which was a dark grey as opposed to the black of the other three boxes, and opened the lid. He extracted two blood bags from the box, reading the labels on them before returning one to the box and picking another. He then stood and began to hook the bags onto another appendage of the stand from which the scanner hung. He pulled a tube form the box and pushed that into one of the bags, before grabbing Clara's wrist and inserting the needled end into it. He then pressed some buttons on the control device, which started the blood flow. The tube became a crimson red as it was filled with blood, which began to pump steadily into Clara.

Meanwhile, the other scientist began to set up a small device from two of the other boxes. He removed the makeshift bandage then positioned the mechanism over the cut on Clara's thigh and then pressed down. He held the device in place for ten seconds, before removing it to reveal smooth skin where the cut had been. He repeated this to all of the major cuts on her body; getting rid of the blood-soaked bandages and healing the skin. Once all the cuts were healed, he went to the last box and grabbed a small capsule. He held the capsule over Clara's broken rib before twisting it, releasing a liquid which soaked into her skin. After about a minute Clara's breathing had noticeably changed; going from short and sharp inhalations to deep, unhindered breaths.

The Clerics had left the room after the required equipment had been delivered. Only two now remained, guarding the door. Madame Kovarian had also left, leaving just the two scientists, Scarlett and the Doctor in the room. The shorter of the scientists looked around, grunted, then exited through the door in the left wall. Dr Wentworth was about to follow, but then seemed to remember something as he turned to the Doctor.

"I forgot to mention that your child is safe, Doctor." He stated, smiling.

The Doctor looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I assumed you were the father." Wentworth replied, bowing his head slightly. When the Doctor still appeared confused, and now slightly annoyed, he continued, gesturing to Clara.

"You do know she's pregnant, right?"

**A.N:** Well, hello again people! This chapter was pretty annoying to write, (because I had to do quite a bit of research on the injuries and that) and there was a lot of description, which is generally not my style. Either way, I hope you enjoyed it. I left you with a bit of a cliffhanger here, and I want to know: How do you think the Doctor will react? If I find a reaction that I like, I will write it, because I haven't written the next chapter (I write them as I go.) So **_please review,_**with any answers/ideas you have, or just to say how you think I'm doing. Thank you to all the people who reviewed last chapter as well, and I hope you all keep reading!  
-Weird :)


	14. Chapter 13

The Doctor halted, his face frozen in shock. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He looked between Dr Wentworth and Clara, glancing first at her face and then at her stomach, before coming to a stop staring at the scientist.

"What?" The Doctor asked, staring disbelievingly at the other man.

"Umm..." Wentworth seemed at a loss for words. "She's pregnant." He stated again, his voice quivering. "Would you like to... uh... do you want to see?" He stuttered. The Doctor nodded silently, and walked around the bed until he stood next to the scientist, facing the scanner. Wentworth pointed to a specific reading on the monitor. "This here says-"

"I know what it says." The Doctor interrupted harshly, though he made no move to apologise. Wentworth seemed taken aback, but didn't say anything. The Doctor's eyes examined the results, reading all the information thoroughly. He occasionally passed a look at Clara, before returning his focus to the readings.

"How do you know these are correct? How do I know you're not lying?" the Doctor asked, turning to Wentworth and giving him a distrustful look. Wentworth gulped, looking back at the Doctor before spinning to take in the monitor.

"Well, I could run another test..." the scientist began, but seeing the look on the Doctor's face, he continued "...or you could." The last phrase sounded more like a question than a suggestion, and the Doctor nodded, before beginning to press buttons on the control panel mounted on the stand. Wentworth moved to the other side of the room and flicked the lights off, before the beam of light appeared out of the scanner again and rained down onto Clara once again; however this time the beam was a dark green colour and was focused mainly on Clara's stomach, emitting a low humming sound.

The scan took more time to complete than the last one and after a few minutes the lights were turned back on and the monitor began to scroll downwards, submitting the results. Once it had finished, the Doctor stepped to it and began to read through the data. His eyes widened once more and his grip on the bed tightened as he fought to keep himself upright.

"Scarlett, come here." The Doctor shakily asked the girl, who had previously been stood against the far wall. She moved forward tentatively, and came to stand beside the Doctor, watching his reaction. He looked as though he was about to faint. "What does that say?" The Doctor asked, pointing towards a section of the report with a trembling finger. Scarlett scanned through the data before replying.

"It says that Clara's pregnant." Scarlett clarified, shifting nervously from foot to foot. She watched while the Doctor composed himself before he twiddled some of the dials on the side of the monitor. A blurry picture appeared on the screen, replacing the text that had been there moments before. After a bit of fiddling the Doctor managed to focus the image. It looked vaguely like the photo Scarlett remembered being shown in one of her lives. An ultrasound image.

The Doctor stared at it for a few moments, before moving to Clara's side and gently placing a hand on her cheek; admiring her. His expression was clouded; some parts were dark but it was dominated by his worry and care for her.

* * *

No way. This is not happening; I refuse to believe it. She can't be pregnant! It's... well it is possible, but... No. Just no. She can't be pregnant. I mean; it was only once, and we took precautions and... Wait. She was pregnant when they beat her up. She was pregnant with my child when she was beaten up. My child, barely a blip on a screen, could have been erased from existence by these... monsters. They nearly killed her; if that punch that broke her rib was any lower, I would be without a child. If those beasts hadn't... No. This is my fault: all my fault. I shouldn't have brought her here. She was weak after Trenzalore as it was. I should have just dropped her off at the Maitland's and given her time to rest. We haven't even had a proper conversation yet!

How am I going to tell her? I can't just randomly say: 'Oh, and by the way Clara, you're pregnant.' No way. But I have to tell her; she's the one carrying a baby Time Lord!

And it had two hearts. It had two hearts, which means I'm not alone anymore! I won't be the last of my kind, and I'll have a child again! A child that I can raise properly – teach them everything I know – protect them, care for them; love them. And I'd have a constant companion. Someone who would be nearly impossible to kill, who I could take on all of my adventures! But not the dangerous ones. No, I wouldn't let my child go on a dangerous adventure. I wouldn't risk them getting hurt, or being taken from me. I would always keep them away from harm; as far away from anything that could hurt them as possible.

* * *

"Can I wake her up?" He asked, turning to Dr Wentworth.

"Yes, I believe so. Um..." Dr Wentworth spun towards the door. He frowned, then looked around in confusion, but didn't find what he was looking for. "Where did they go?"

"Who?" The Doctor asked, confused.

"The Clerics guarding the door." Scarlett replied, spinning in a circle. "They've just disappeared."

"They can't have; we'd have noticed." The Doctor replied.

"They could have left when the lights were off." Scarlett suggested, moving towards the door. "But why did they leave?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Wentworth murmured, his voice filled with dread. "They must've gone to tell Madame Kovarian about her." The Doctor turned from watching Clara, his expression thunderous. If looks could kill, Dr Wentworth would have been erased from the universe countless times.

"Wake her up. Now." The Doctor demanded, and Wentworth didn't argue. He scurried to one of the black boxes and pulled out a syringe filled with a thin white liquid. He walked to Clara and inserted the needle into her arm. He pushed down in the syringe, squeezing the liquid into Clara's body.

Suddenly, Clara gasped, her eyes flicking open and darting around the room. Wentworth removed the needle from her arm, and she looked at him fearfully, shuffling backwards. The Doctor's hand came to rest on her hair and she jolted away, before seeing that it was him and sitting up, throwing her arms around his middle and burying her face in his chest. He stroked her hair for a moment, before pulling away slightly and pushing her chin up.

"Clara, we have to run. They're after us because..." The Doctor trailed off, crunching his eyebrows in thought. "Well, they're after us and we need to get away. They want to hurt you."

"Can he get us out of here?" Scarlett asked, gesturing to Dr Wentworth, then shrunk back when she felt both the Doctor and Clara's eyes on her.

"Good thought Scarlett. Dr Wentworth, how do you get out of here?" The Doctor asked, his mood having shifted now that Clara was awake; he couldn't let her know just how much danger she was in.

"I have a clearance tag for the science labs. I just scan it and-"

"Right, well give it here please and then we'll leave." The Doctor interrupted.

"But... they'll kill me." Wentworth stammered.

"That's your problem." The Doctor said darkly, his mood changing once again.

"Doctor" Clara's small voice was scratchy, but she continued. "We can't just leave him." She looked up at him from the bed, her eyes questioning.

"Clara, he's the reason we have to run." The Doctor replied.

"I'm willing to bet he's also the reason I'm still alive." Clara countered, staring at the Doctor defiantly. "He's coming with us."

Scarlett watched the exchange from the foot of the bed. She saw the small interaction between her parents – the authoritative look from Clara – before the Doctor nodded and began to lift her from the bed. He placed her feet on the floor, and she released her grip on him; walking forwards a few feet before turning back.

"Are we getting out of here or what?" She asked rhetorically, and the Doctor smiled, then turned to Dr Wentworth and grabbed the key card from around his neck. He ran to the inside door panel and swiped the card. The door opened with a hiss, and the Doctor and Clara stepped through, holding hands. Scarlett stayed a few feet behind them, avoiding Clara. Wentworth was the last one to exit, and the door closed behind him.

**A.N: **Hello People! This chapter took some serious re-writing (3 times!) and I'm still not completely happy with it. I tried to incorporate everyone's ideas into it; but I think it just failed. I got to the point where i was just like 'stuff this' and wrote a monologue for the Doctor. I think that's the only reason I'm posting this today instead of next century (when I finally procrastinating about it).  
Anyway, thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter, and I hope I did the Doctor's reaction even a bit of justice. _**Please review**__, _and the next chapter should be up sometime over the weekend.  
-Weird :)


	15. Chapter 14

"Where to now?" Clara asked, glancing around. She had no recollection of these corridors, as she had been unconscious for most of their journey through them.

"If you'll just follow me; there should be a lift through to the upper levels." Dr Wentworth replied, stepping in front of their small party to lead them.

"What's on the upper levels?" The Doctor questioned.

"The floor above is sleeping quarters and the top floor is the hangar. The middle floor is just empty rooms really; lots of storage cupboards." Wentworth answered, walking quickly.

"We don't want to go to the upper levels." The Doctor stated.

"Wasn't that the way you came in?" Wentworth frowned, stopping.

"No. My ship is parked near the other entrance." The Doctor replied.

"What other entrance? There is no other entrance to the base." Wentworth said in confusion.

"Yes there is." Clara stated. "We came down a massive flight of stairs near the cells."

"But you can't get out that way." Wentworth said.

"Why not? It's the way we came in." Clara restated.

"But there's no air bubble." The scientist exclaimed.

"In other words, Doctor, I think that means we have to go upstairs. Because unless you want to suffocate, we need respirators." Scarlett pointed out, and the adults turned towards her. They each gave her an odd look, but Scarlett just shrugged her shoulders. "Now can we keep walking, because I think I can hear something." The group turned simultaneously when they heard distant shouting. Their eyes widened and Wentworth was the first to turn and set off at a run. The Doctor grabbed Clara by the hand and started to run too, but only got about five metres before he halted abruptly and spun on the spot.

"Come on Scarlett, we need to get out of here." The girl turned to him and shook her head, her face drawn.

"I can't." She said, and seeing the Doctor's frown she continued. "I can't run. Whatever they did to me a while ago... well, I've had a limp ever since and I can't run on my left leg." The small girl glared down at the ground before looking back at them. "You go. I can try to hold them off and buy you some time."

Scarlett turned away from Clara and the Doctor, and began to move slowly in the opposite direction. Clara looked up at the Doctor, "We can't let her die for us. She's only a child." Clara's words struck a chord in the Doctor. This girl was a child. A fifteen-year-old who had no family and had been tortured from a young age, but still a child.

The Doctor stood still for a moment, then made a decision. He ran forwards and grabbed onto Scarlett's hand. She made a noise of surprise as he gripped her hand before dragging her along behind him. When they reached Clara, the Doctor grabbed her hand with his spare one, and then he was pulling both of them along. Scarlett tripped a few times – almost falling over on several occasions – but it wasn't long before they came to a door.

"Ok, so where's that other guy?" Clara asked, panting. The Doctor looked around, scanning the immediate area, before growling something under his breath and turning back to Clara.

"Gone. We're going to have to get through here by ourselves." The Doctor said. He walked up to the door, glancing at the key card reader thoughtfully before searching his pockets. He made a sound of triumph as he produced a thin black leather wallet.

"What's that?" Scarlett asked, shying away from Clara slightly when the woman turned to answer her.

"It's the psychic paper, it reads people's thoughts. Say if we ran into the military and we needed to find something out we would use it to tell them that we were their superiors." Clara explained.

"So, if you wanted it to let you through the door, you just have to make it look like a key card?" Scarlett predicted.

"Exactly." Was the Doctor's reply, as he swiped the psychic paper through the scanner. The door beeped, and then the handle clicked down from its vertical position, allowing the Doctor to push the it down completely and open the door. He looked through the doorway, checked for people, then gestured for Clara and Scarlett to follow him. They continued walking, feeling slightly safer now that there was a door between them and the Clerics.

"Are we going up to the next floor?" Clara asked.

"No. We're going up to the storage floor. It'll be easier to hide up there and they're less likely to look. Plus, we can also, probably, get our hands on some respirators."

They continued on for about half an hour, passing through numerous doors and dodging into rooms to avoid the occasional Cleric; all three of them wondering how big the base actually was. After a while they reached a door that was different form the others. It had both a key card and a biometric scanner.

"Alright... okay, um..." The Doctor searched his pockets again, but this time he came up empty. "Any ideas?" The Doctor asked. The other two shook their heads, before Clara's brow furrowed.

"I could hack it?" She suggested, and the Doctor simply shrugged and moved out of the way. Clara knelt down next to the biometric scanner and started to pry it off of the wall. Once the outer casing was removed, she stared at the knot of wires inside it, before quickly unplugging and re-routing a few of them. She then placed the outer casing back on, though it wasn't fixed to the wall anymore. "I think that's it."

"What happens if it's not?" Scarlett asked.

"Well then, we're all highly likely to get caught again." Clara responded.

"It's worth a shot." The Doctor stated. "But let me do it." The Doctor stepped in front of Clara and pulled out the psychic paper again. He quickly swiped that through the slot, before moving onto the biometric scanner. His thumb hovered over it for a second, before he took a deep breath and pressed it down. There was no sound for a second, then a sudden beep, and the door opened to reveal an elevator. The Doctor and Clara smiled at each other, the Doctor placing his hands on either side of her face and leaning across to kiss her forehead. Clara grinned at him, and together they got onto the lift. Scarlett looked into the small area, before reluctantly entering it.

The Doctor pressed one of the buttons, and the doors close on them. Scarlett tried to breathe deeply as the space in the room appeared to get smaller. The Doctor noticed the girl's distress, and motioned for Clara to take a step back from her. Scarlett didn't relax, though the tension in her stance seemed to fade somewhat.

When they reached their destination the lift dinged, and the doors opened to reveal a long, dusty corridor. Unlike the floors on the levels below, the ground here did not appear to have been walked on; there were only a few sets of footprints marked by the dust. The three escapees added their footprints, walking quietly down the corridor. The Doctor stopped in front of a few doors, opening them and inspecting their contents before closing them again. They stopped at another door, and the Doctor looked in to find what looked like spare sleeping supplies; folding beds, blankets and pillows. There were also some spare clothes – much like the uniforms the Clerics were wearing.

They entered the room, and set about creating somewhere to rest. Scarlett immediately made her way to the back of the room, setting up her bed behind a shelf of clothes. The Doctor and Clara chose a spot that was also behind a shelf, and began to set up their beds as well. They all sat in their respective places, but after a moment Clara lay down, exhausted. The Doctor sat on the edge of her bed, and began to pat her hair and stroke her face softly as she fell asleep. The Doctor was in desperate need to talk to her, but for a conversation like that, she needed to be at full strength. He just hoped that he would be too.

**A.N:** Hello People! Wow, another chapter in a day. I must say, I'm a little surprised, but I wanted to get on to the talk - as I'm sure you do - so I finished this chapter as soon as I could. Also, earlier today I looked at my traffic stats and found out that I had 5555 views of my story. I think you guys deserve another chapter for a number like that!  
Anyway, thank you to all the people who reviewed last chapter, and I have a question for you all - as so many of you were helpful with the Doctor's reaction - _How do you think Clara will react?_ I will try to include all the reactions I get.  
So, _**please review,**_and the next chapter will be up soon.  
-Weird :)


	16. Chapter 15

Scarlett awoke gently, from one of the best sleeps she'd ever had. She glanced around the room, and then peered through the gap in the shelf to observe her parents. At some point when she was asleep, the Doctor had joined Clara in her folding bed, and Clara was now laying snuggled up to his side with her head nestled into his chest. His arm was around her waist, and his hand had found its way to her stomach. Scarlett couldn't help but smile at how protective he was being. She noticed that his left hand – the one not touching Clara – was twitching occasionally, signalling that he was awake. The hand seemed to give up attempting to be still, and began to lightly stroke Clara's hair. Clara started to stir, and slowly opened her eyes. She tilted he head to look up at the Doctor, smiling, and he leant down to place a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose. Clara giggled softly, before leaning up and pressing a kiss to his lips.

They smiled at each other as they pulled away, and Clara settled her head back onto the Doctor's chest. Scarlett watched as instead of lying down again, the Doctor sat up and moved so that he was perpendicular to the bed, leaning against the wall behind him with Clara's head just below his shoulder and her legs curled on top of his. It was then that he spotted Scarlett watching them through the shelves, and he nodded to acknowledge her. Scarlett returned the gesture, then moved to a lower shelf so that she could still see them, but they couldn't see her.

The Doctor took several deep breaths, preparing himself for the imminent conversation. Clara didn't move, but she frowned when she felt his heartbeats speed up.

"Clara, we need to talk." The Doctor said eventually.

"What about?" Clara asked nervously, worry seeping into her tone.

"About how you're..." The Doctor started, but the words failed him before he could finish his sentence. _Coward _he thought, as Clara looked up at him in confusion.

"I'm what?" Clara asked, her curiosity mounting, as well as her concern.

"You're... you're p-not safe here." _Damn it, Damn it, no wrong thing. Stupid mouth, where did that come from?_

"I'm not safe?" Clara repeated, bemused.

"No, you're not." He decided. "You're not safe."

"Okay. And why is that so important that you needed to tell me so urgently?" Clara asked.

_Because there are two of you now... _"Because I'm supposed to protect you, and I didn't."

"You couldn't. And besides, you made them help me; there isn't a scratch on me anymore." Clara reassured, but the troubled look on his face did not disperse. "Doctor, what's really wrong?" The Doctor's face didn't change, but there was an internal battle going on in his head.

_I have to tell her. It's only right, I mean; she's the one who'll have the baby. But what if I can't keep her safe? What if she leaves me? What if she takes my child away from me? What if she decides not to keep the baby? I don't think could handle it if she left – though I could understand why – but what if she got rid of it? It's so easy to do; even in her time. What if she just gets rid of it and leaves me? I don't think I could survive if she did that: I've lost enough children. I'm responsible for the deaths of so many of them, and the rest were killed. I don't need to lose this child too. So I shouldn't tell her. But I have to, because this is her child as well._

"Clara..." _Do it. Do it. DO IT! _"...you're pregnant." The Doctor informed. Clara froze, much like the Doctor had when first told, then glared up at him.

"You're lying. I'm not pregnant." She replied coldly, but with an underlying hint of fear.

"Clara, I'm sorry, but you are." The Doctor repeated.

"No. No I'm not. I can't be pregnant. I just can't." Clara said, sounding more frantic each time she spoke; the anger changing into fear. She started to move away from him, scrambling backwards on the small bed to put some distance between them.

"Clara, I'm sorry, but you have to believe me." The Doctor pleaded, reaching for one of her hands.

"No. I'm not pregnant. I'm not." She objected, snatching her hand out of his reach. "How do you know anyway?"

"When they scanned you they found out, and then that scientist said that my child was safe. He wasn't aware that I didn't know." The Doctor responded.

"Prove it." Clara challenged. The Doctor looked lost for a moment, trying to think of a way to convince her. He couldn't take her back to the machine, and his sonic screwdriver was gone, so he couldn't scan her now.

"I saw it." Came a voice from the other side of the room, and both Clara and the Doctor's heads snapped up to see Scarlett standing next to a shelf, watching them. "He put this sort of... picture up of your stomach and you could see it. It was just a little blob, but... yeah." The girl finished lamely, before scurrying back to her bed.

"An ultrasound... ish. It's a way more advanced version than what you'll have heard of in the 21st century." The Doctor explained, then stopped and looked at Clara. "Are you alright?" He asked concernedly.

"No, I'm not. I'm not alright. How can I be alright? You've just told me I'm pregnant with an alien's child! I'm only 24-years-old! How am I supposed to look after a baby? I mean, I already look after two kids, how am I supposed to just... up and leave them? I can't keep looking after them if I have a baby! And then what am I going to do? I won't have a job, and I'll have to support myself and eventually a child and then I'll have to-"

"Clara calm down. Just calm down."

"How can I calm down, Doctor? How can you ask me to calm down?" Clara asked hysterically.

"Because you're going on about this like it's just going to be you." The Doctor replied.

"Well it is, isn't it? You can't have a baby and still jump around the universe and get into all sorts of danger. Besides, now that I'm pregnant I can't come with you either, and you can't sit still for a second, so you're never going to wait around for nine months; let alone this child's whole life!" Clara shouted, her eyes welling with tears. "You'll just go off and find some other girl that you can get into that stupid snog-box of yours." Clara was openly crying now, the tears making salty paths down her dirt-smeared cheeks. "Maybe if I got rid of it..."

"Don't you dare." The Doctor warned firmly. "Don't even think about it."

"But you're going to leave me if I don't!" Clara exclaimed.

"No I won't. I won't ever leave you Clara – not willingly anyway."

"But you don't do domestic. How could you manage to live with me and our child for its entire life?" Clara asked, still crying.

"I haven't had children in a long time. My last child, my daughter, I knew her for a few hours. And I shunned her for most of it." The Doctor admitted. "I would never do that to this child."

"So you won't leave?" Clara sounded small and vulnerable, her big brown eyes staring up at him. The Doctor simply shook his head, and Clara rushed forward into his arms. The Doctor scooped her into his chest, with Clara curling into a ball in his lap. She dug her head into his chest and began to shake, as sobs overtook her small body. The Doctor wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hair a few times, muttering soothing words to her.

After a while Clara composed herself and looked up at the Doctor. He was staring down at her, and he placed his thumbs on both of her cheeks to wipe away the evidence of her tears. He smiled softly down at her, and she returned the gesture. Their smiles turned to grins, and then Clara giggled slightly. "We're having a baby." She whispered, and the thought finally sunk into the Doctor's head. He laughed loudly, before hugging Clara close to his chest.

"Yes we are."

**A.N: **Hello People! I literally had to stop myself from putting this chapter up yesterday, because I finished it really quickly (so I hope there is no damage to the quality of it). Anyway, I tried to add everyone's reactions in, but if I missed anything out just tell me. I'm not too sure if I got Clara's reaction right (I just sort of guessed), so please let me know if there was anything I could have done better.  
Anyway, thanks to all the people who reviewed last chapter, and I hope you all keep reading. I have a question for you: Should I do a chapter that is half Scarlett's thoughts on Clara and the Doctor's reactions and half plot, or just continue from here? Either way, **_Please review _**and next chapter will probably be up on Wednesday (I have school, so it's a probably).  
-Weird :)


	17. Chapter 16

So it is post-Trenzalore. I figured, but I still wasn't sure. Well, that explains the energy I felt when she nearly touched me. I wonder what'll happen now, because I can't be in two places at once, so I can't go with them. But I know the Doctor would never leave me behind; especially if he figures out who I am. I remember one of my mother's saying that; the after the second time she met him, just before we died, she randomly said that he was 'Clever, but so slow'. I never knew how she reacted to that; it's one of the hazier memories - because I wasn't even born then – and we were bombed just moments after. It must have been real Clara bleeding through... just before she died. Just before she said those words. I've heard them so many times, and I've come to fear them. Because they mean the end.

But never the end of the real me. No, the real me is a tiny being in Clara Oswald's stomach. The real Clara Oswald.

Neither of them wanted to believe it at first. I could tell. Their first reaction was to accuse the person telling them of lying. Now doesn't that say a lot about how much they wanted me? And then my mother says that maybe she should 'get rid of it'. Not only did they call me an 'it', but they were talking about getting rid of me. Maybe I'm unwanted by them. Maybe that's why I've had to die so many times.

But the look on his face, my father's face, when he saw that little blob; was a look of wonder. It was fleeting; barely lasting a second, but it was there. So no, I'm not unwanted... not by him anyway. He was so stern, harsh even, when he said that he wouldn't let my mother get rid of me. I wonder what was going through his head when he said that. I guess I'll have to ask him, but I may have to wait a while to do that.

I think they were both just scared. Scared and worried. Because that was always what my mother said to me, in all my lives. She was scared, but she wouldn't go back, even if she could. If all those Oswalds, all the echoes, all loved me, why wouldn't she? Why would Clara Oswald not love me?

And I suppose that's just it. She would. She would love me, the real me. And I can see that now. By the words she's just whispered, and the joy written on their faces, and the way he's replying. Yes, they will love me. Real me. And I suppose I can excuse their reactions for that.

The sound of heavy footsteps shook Clara and the Doctor from their peaceful embrace. The Doctor stood abruptly, and Clara followed. Scarlett appeared from behind her shelf and all three watched the door anxiously. The pounding grew louder as it approached the door, and the three of them glanced at each other before Scarlett ran to a small space between shelves and squeezed her small body into in, while Clara hid a few foot behind her in a similar spot, with the Doctor standing opposite Clara, also concealed.

They didn't emerge from their hiding places until only the faintest echoes of sound could be heard. The Doctor looked at both Scarlett and Clara with a calculating look on his face, his eyes not focused on them.

"We need to get out of here." The Doctor stated, his eyes now darting around.

"We've established that. The only reason we're up here is because we can't." Clara reminded him.

"Yes, but there's got to be a place where they put all the stuff they take of people." The Doctor considered.

"Yeah, it's called a bin." Clara retorted.

"No, as in; stuff that they can use. Like me screwdriver, or the respirators."

"So all we have to do is find that room?" Scarlett guessed.

"Yep." The Doctor replied. "And preferably before we have any unwanted guests."

They collected a few things from around the room, Clara grabbing a large one-shoulder bag and filling it with some of the thin blankets. She also managed to squash a pillow into the bag before it reached capacity. "We're going to need some food." Clara stated, as her stomach rumbled. She rolled her eyes as the Doctor chuckled, before stepping up to him and poking his chest. "Hey, I can't help it. I haven't eaten since we got down here. Which reminds me; how long have we been down here?"

The Doctor thought for a moment, "About 24 hours, give or take a few minutes." He replied, seeming surprised by his own answer.

"It feels like longer." Clara mused, stepping back and pulling the bag onto her shoulder.

"No, I'll carry that!" The Doctor exclaimed, reaching out and plucking the bag off of Clara's shoulder.

"Why?" Clara asked, confused.

"Well, I don't want to put any strain on you, what with you being pregnant." The Doctor replied carefully.

"You've known for a few hours and you're already being over-protective. What next?" Clara through her hands up in exasperation, but her tone hid a small hint of a smile. The Doctor looked slightly helpless, but decided to ignore Clara and head towards to door. He opened it cautiously, and peered out into the corridor. His head moved from left to right as he surveyed the area, before opening the door fully and beckoning Clara and Scarlett out.

They moved through the winding corridors, looking into rooms and cupboards. Eventually they came across a small chamber full of tinned and dried food, and protein packs. Clara and Scarlett went around grabbing some of the dried food and returning to the Doctor, pushing it into the bag on his shoulder.

"I think that's all we can take." The Doctor said, looking down at the overflowing bag. One of the blankets was half hanging out of it, and the bag was bursting at the seams.

"Alright then, where to now?" Clara asked.

"You know that place I mentioned, the room with all the stuff in it? We find that." The Doctor answered, walking quietly out into the corridor. Once again, they began to search through the rooms, not a single door was left unopened. Both Clara and Scarlett started when a shout came from just down the hall, and the Doctor poked his head out of a door.

"Have you found it?" Clara asked, smiling.

"No, but I've found something better." The Doctor replied. The room the girls entered was larger than the others, although it was still very dusty. There was a balcony overlooking numerous desks full of computers and devices, and a huge screen on the far wall. The Doctor ran down the stairs on the left of the balcony, taking them two at a time, and began to inspect the hardware on the desks. He jumped back up the stairs to stand next to Clara, examining the big screen.

"Looks like an old control room. Which should mean..." the Doctor spun in a circle, before he ran to the right and stopped at a dusty console. He produced a red handkerchief from his jacket pocket and, in one swipe, cleared the screen of dust. He grinned for a second, before the screen lit up a bright white and showed the face of Madame Kovarian.

"Well Doctor, I suppose I've found you." Kovarian smirked, glaring up at them from the screen. Scarlett shrunk back behind the Doctor, who had immediately pushed Clara behind him when Kovarian's face had appeared. "How are you feeling about your imminent fatherhood?" Kovarian mocked.

"I'd feel a lot better if we were off this planet." The Doctor replied coolly.

"Well, thanks to your little friend, that's not an option." Kovarian sneered, and the camera zoomed out to show Dr Wentworth standing in the corner of the room. Clara's head dropped and she looked saddened as she looked at him. The scientist was cowering under Kovarian's harsh glare, but managed to speak up.

"They've posted sentries at the doors to the secondary stairway exit. Even if you get respirators you still won't be able to get out." The man's voice grew more confident with each word; taking strength from the Doctor's increasingly hopeless expression.

"Thank you Dr Wentworth, your help was much appreciated. However, you willingly allowed prisoners to exit the infirmary without a guard, and therefore you shall be executed." A look of horror passed over Wentworth's face, before he ran towards the door. He made less than two steps before he collapsed to the floor; a bullet firmly lodged in his skull. The crack resounded through the speakers, and Clara ducked her head behind the Doctor to avoid the sight of the dead man's body.

"You didn't have to do that." The Doctor stated darkly, his jaw clenched. That man may have sold them out, but he had been the one to cure Clara, and for that he would always be thankful.

"Tell me honestly that you wouldn't have done the same thing." Kovarian retorted. The Doctor remained silent. "Anyway, I just thought I'd let you know that there are a squad of Clerics on their way up to you. They'll only take a few minutes, so there's no point trying to hide. We'll have your precious companion and your child soon enough." Kovarian stated.

"You know, this room was a perfectly adequate base for operations, but you moved downstairs, why? Maybe it was too small. Maybe it was too big. Maybe you wanted to upgrade your technology. But I don't think so. My guess; there's something in here that's dangerous, something you don't want your Clerics having access to." The Doctor paused momentarily, having looked up at some point during his speech. "Like your airlock features, for instance. Say you kept them on this floor for the simple reason that they were closer to the gas masks. Closer to the only thing that could save you. But when you moved all your little procedures downstairs, you left the security measures as well. Meaning that if I do this..." The Doctor began to press buttons on the console in front of him, a dark stare on his face, "...your men have no choice but to return to their dorms and wait until the danger's passed."

The Doctor pressed a final button, and suddenly harsh red lights started to flash above them. An automated female voice began to repeat a string of orders. _'Airlock seals compromised. Airlock seals compromised. All personnel are required to return to airtight holding facilities immediately. Air toxicity expected reach fatal intensities for all levels in approximately five minutes. Airlock seals compromised. Airlock seals compromised.'_

**A.N: **Hello again people! So, I managed to update on time! This chapter is the longest yet, so I hope you enjoyed it. Also, thank you for all the reviews you've given me; I love it when I see all the supportive and constructive feedback you guys give me, and even when all you say is that you like the story I get a huge confidence boost. So thank you!  
Anyway, I think thsi story will be finished in about 2 or 3 more chapters, so I'm wondering; Should I have a sequel (which will include a certain character from an old adventure), or should I just end it here?  
Either way, thanks for reading, and the next chapter should be up by Friday.  
-Weird :)


	18. Chapter 17

_'Airlock seals compromised. Airlock seals compromised. Floor one air toxicity will reach fatal levels in approximately two minutes. All personnel are required to return to airtight holding facilities immediately. Airlock seals compromised. Airlock seals compromised. Floor two air toxicity will reach fatal levels in approximately three minutes. All personnel are required to return to airtight holding facilities immediately. Airlock seals compromised. Airlock seals compromised." _The Automated voice continued to list off times and orders as the Doctor opened a small box attached to the wall and grabbed three of the full-face gas masks, handing one each to Clara and Scarlett before putting his on and watching as the others followed his example.

The Doctor walked calmly out of the room. He had the gas mask on his face, but a small button on the side was flashing yellow to signal that the filters weren't closed yet. Clara followed behind him, a mixture of awe and fear painted across her features, while Scarlett hung back. Clara was worried, as the look on the Doctor's face was not one of sadness at the lives that he was most probably ending, but one of detached indifference. He even seemed to take a perverse type of pleasure in the pain he caused as they heard shouts of people on the floors below over the still active communication line, as well as Kovarian's growl of annoyance at the supposed incapability of her men.

As they walked, the Doctor instructed Clara and Scarlett to press the buttons on their respirators before pressing his own. The formerly yellow light stopped flashing and turned a bright green. The Doctor watched Clara do the same before turning again and going back down the passageway.

They strolled back through the corridors to the exit, passing by the rooms that they had searched through to find food and safety. The bag the Doctor was carrying had been dropped when he first entered the old control room, and hadn't been picked up again. They were somewhat surprised as they walked along that they did not encounter a single Cleric. The area around them slowly filled with the toxic gas, and the air began to tint a horrible yellow-ish colour. Their breathing became more audible as the gases were filtered through their respirators. The three walked through the corridors until they reached the elevator door. As they were about to enter the elevator there was a loud crackling before a mocking voice was heard over the inter-comm.

"Well, Doctor, you've averted the war this time. But once again, as the great poem says; _'The battle's one, but the child is lost.' _I fooled you again Doctor, of rather she did." Kovarian's voice rang out into the deadly silence, and the Doctor looked desperately at Clara before running to her. Clara looked extremely confused, as the Doctor raced towards her, but her head turned when she heard a cough from further down the corridor. The Doctor turned just in time to see Scarlett fall to the floor; the yellow light on her gas mask still flashing.

"No!" Clara yelled as she ran towards the girl. She put her hand out to hold up Scarlett's head, but the second her fingers brushed against Scarlett a shower of sparks appeared from the point where they'd touched. Clara snatched her hand back in shock, and Scarlett's heavy breathing turned into a gasp. The Doctor stood over them as Clara moved back. "Wha-what was that?" Clara stammered.

"Blinovitch energy." The Doctor replied, then looked at Scarlett. "You lied." He accused, but his voice held no anger.

Scarlett struggled for breath, and then mustered as much energy as she could. "You never asked."

"Watch your child die Doctor, and know that her death is you fault." Kovarian taunted.

"What does she mean, your child?" Clara demanded, confused and distressed as she watched Scarlett suffer, but the Doctor ignored her.

"Why didn't you say?" The Doctor asked desperately, crouching down so that he was at the same level as Clara.

"I c-couldn't, you'd... never have... believed me." Scarlett croaked, her voice becoming barely more than a whisper. The Doctor moved forward, gently moving Clara out of the way and cradling Scarlett's head in his lap, pulling off both of their gas masks. Only now that he knew could he see the similarities. The way her nose tipped up slightly at the end – just like Clara's - , the way her dark brown hair tinted a lighter shade in the reflecting light – just like his - , the large hazel eyes and the round face with the slightly pointy chin. This girl, this girl that had been tortured and beaten for almost her entire life; who had known no love for so much of her existence, was his daughter. It was almost too much to deem possible, but as he held her tiny form close to him, he knew.

"I know it hurts Scarlett, and this is going to hurt more, but you have to regenerate. It'll mean you look different, but-" The Doctor stopped when he saw Scarlett shaking her head slightly, fear and determination in her eyes as she stared at him. "Scarlett you have to." He exclaimed, but still, the girl in his arms shook her head. Tears welled in his eyes. "Scarlett please! Please, just regenerate! Please..." His voice trailed off as he watched the light drain from her eyes and the movement of her head stop.

A final whisper of "Bye Daddy" was all he heard as her eyes slid closed; her last expression one of terror, but also peace. He leaned his face towards her so his forehead rested on hers. The dam broke, and his tears dripped from his eyes onto her skin, clearing pale paths through her dirt-streaked cheeks. The Doctor rocked back and forth, holding Scarlett's body in his arms and kissing her forehead repeatedly. He looked up at Clara to see silent tears flowing down her cheeks under the gas mask. They both knew who she was... and they both felt the pain that every parent feels when their child dies before them.

**A.N:** Please don't kill me. I had to get rid of her, because I couldn't have two of them. I'm sorry this chapter is so short, but life caught up on me and I wanted to post something before I swept under the tidal wave of homework. Anyway, once again, thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter, and please tell me how I did in this one, because I don't think I made it very emotional, but anywho. **_Please review_**, and the next chapter should be up over the weekend.  
-Weird :)

P.S: I'm going to ask for all of the last few chapters: would you guys like a sequel or should I just leave it here? I have some ideas, and you can suggest some yourself if you want because I am always open for ideas :)


	19. Chapter 18

Clara didn't move until she heard a slight cough from the Doctor. At this point she ran forward and grabbed his gas mask from its place on the floor, her arms going around his head as she frantically forced him to put it on. Before he did so, the Doctor placed another gentle kiss to Scarlett's forehead and laid her body down on the floor. Clara tentatively reached her hand towards Scarlett's face, expecting the same sparks from earlier. But there were none, and more tears fell down Clara's face when she realised why. Scarlett was actually, properly dead. Her whole future was gone. All because of one act of retaliation, and one of foolish bravery.

The two adults silently agreed to leave, and the Doctor moved forward and pulled Scarlett's cooling body into his arms. He held her close to his chest, only now realising the looks she had given him when he was holding Clara like this. She had wanted him, her father, to hold her like that. But he had been too slow again, and this time the consequences weren't just a couple of bruises from the exterior of the TARDIS.

Clara and the Doctor walked into the elevator and set it for the bottom level. When they exited, they walked down the somewhat familiar corridors, passing the laboratories and cells. They saw many dead and dying Clerics, but as they walked further from the central area these numbers dwindled to a body every few hundred metres. They avoided looking at them, deciding instead to forge ahead, out of the tunnels.

They reached the staircase and slowly began to walk up it, Clara in front of the Doctor, using a torch that she had found in his pocket to guide their way. When they got to the top, Clara pulled the still-unlocked door and it slid open, once again revealing the outside world. The foggy surroundings looked just as they had when the adults had first come to the planet, but there seemed to be a much more sinister feel to it now.

The pair walked back through the fog, in the direction of the TARDIS. It was only luck that allowed them to find the blue time machine, as the thick fog only allowed them to see a few feet in front of them. When they finally entered the TARDIS, the Doctor and Clara pulled off their respirators quickly, as they had started to emit smoke due to the gases. The Doctor placed Scarlett's small form on the floor of the TARDIS console room, running to the console and typing in coördinates. Clara walked under the console platform to the emergency wardrobe. She opened the hatch and, silently begging the TARDIS, reached in to grab some clothes.

Her hand came out holding a small red dress. She held it up to the light, inspecting it, and her eyes welled again when she saw the colour. Her favourite colour; scarlet. She stared at the dress, suddenly remembering an echo of the Doctor's voice _'Soufflés. Against the Daleks'._ Oswin, the one from the Dalek Asylum, had worn almost the same dress.

Clara walked back over to Scarlett, gesturing to the Doctor, who picked the girl up again and walked down one of the TARDIS corridors to an empty bedroom. He gently laid her on the bed, then exited the room, leaving Clara alone with the girl's dead body. Clara pulled the rags Scarlett had been wearing off of her thin frame. When she saw the extent of the wounds on Scarlett's body she was almost brought to tears again. The teen looked as though she had been dissected, with long scars running up her torso. Clara quickly pulled the red dress over the girl's head and down her body.

She then left the room quickly, finding the nearest bathroom and grabbing a washcloth. She ran it under the tap before returning to Scarlett and carefully wiping her face clean of dirt. Clara tried not to look at the teenager as she cleaned her up, but couldn't help noticing some similarities between the girl and herself. The same nose, eyes and face shape – although Scarlett's chin was just a little bit pointier than hers – and the same build. Clara remembered being slightly taller than Scarlett at fifteen, but her height was probably due to her lack of food. The girl was so small and thin that Clara had no doubt that even she would be able to lift her.

Clara sighed sadly before going to fetch the Doctor; yelling with a dead girl lying on the bed somehow seemed wrong. She found him just around the corner, and he went back into the room to grab Scarlett.

* * *

They stood at the open doors to the TARDIS, watching the stars. Clara was gently running her hand through Scarlett's hair, pulling out knots and tangles. The Doctor glanced at her, and she looked up at him, nodding. He slowly pushed Scarlett's body away from him, out into the star-filled space. As she floated her hair billowed out in a brown halo around her head and her dress flowed more smoothly down her body.

"I-I remember." Clara stammered, gazing at Scarlett's floating form. It was the first thing she'd said since the girl had died. "I remember her. Some of my echoes... the-they had a child. A d-daughter, who always looked different from her supposed father. I-I remember her. The Victorian me, the one you met, she'd just gone to Yorkshire to visit her parents and daughter. She worked as a governess to try and provide for her baby. The last time I saw her then... she was two." Clara's voice rose to become almost questioning, and the Doctor looked past her, thinking.

"But she would have died when you did. Unless... when Strax brought you back to life you died again because you were too badly hurt. Scarlett wasn't hurt at all... so she would have stayed alive." The Doctor deduced, turning towards Clara. It took him a moment to notice the tears running down her face before he pulled her into him.

Clara sobbed into the Doctor's chest, her muttered words only just reaching his ears. "I was her mother. I remember being her mother. And then I left her, and now she's dead. If I hadn't left her, maybe-"

"Clara, you can't think like that." The Doctor interrupted her disjointed speech. "This had to happen. That version of you had to die for the real you to meet me. If you hadn't have left her, she would never have existed in the first place." The Doctor whispered gently, smoothing Clara's hair. They both turned to the TARDIS doors again, and looked out into space until Scarlett's body was out of sight. Then they turned back to the console, closing the doors behind them.

**A.N: **Well hello again people! Sorry if this chapter is really rubbish, but I've had no time lately. It's coming to the end of the school year and my teachers have all decided to make us do our GCSE courseworks. In basically all of my subjects!  
Anyway, thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter, and I'm pretty sure you'll be happy to know that I have decided to do a sequel. I've only got one idea so far though, so please let my know if you have any and I will probably end up including them :)  
Either way, _**please review,**_and the next chapter should be up soon.  
-Weird :)


	20. Chapter 19

Clara snuggled further into the Doctor's chest, the twin beat of his hearts lulling her deeper into sleep. The Doctor was lying down on her bed, one hand behind his head and the other gently stroking her hair. They were both shocked by what had just happened, and what had been revealed. It had taken a while for them to even contemplate going somewhere. But they had decided that after Clara got some rest they would go to see Jenny, Vastra and Strax, and maybe meet the Victorian Clara's parents. It was the Doctor's choice really; Clara hadn't said much after her outburst about Scarlett. She was just attempting to stay calm, but the Doctor wanted to know how Scarlett had been taken and why that echo of Clara had been so far away from her.

Clara stirred slightly in her sleep, her hand tightening its grip on his shirt, and her brow furrowed. She let out a slight whimper, before curling tighter into the Doctor and starting to quiver. The Doctor gently lifted her chin towards him, whispering her name softly in an attempt to wake her.

Clara's eyes shot open suddenly, wild and fearful. The Doctor stroked her cheek and continued to whisper, calming her down slowly. She moved her head down until the Doctor was patting her hair, burying her face into the Doctor's chest and sniffling.

"Hey, what's wrong?" The Doctor asked gently.

"I was scared and alone and everyone was dying, the whole world was burning..." Clara's sentence trailed off and she sniffled again. She knew that the Doctor had figured out what she was talking about, because his arms had stiffened around her. Gallifrey.

"Don't think about it. It's over now." The Doctor bade her, drawing her small frame closer to his. They lay there for a few more minutes, silently thinking about the events of the past few days.

"We need to do something." The Doctor stated suddenly, sitting up in bed and moving Clara with him. Clara made a small sound of annoyance, but the Doctor ignored her, standing up and walking over to the other side of the bed. He sat down on the chair in the corner and leant down, pulling his shoes from under the bed and putting them on. He then grabbed his coat off the back of the chair and hung it over his shoulders.

* * *

"Ma'am, the TARDIS jus' landed in the drawin' room." Jenny declared, rushing into the conservatory to see Madame Vastra sipping blood from her glass.

"Well that was quick, unless he's got the timing wrong again." Vastra replied, standing up and following Jenny as she walked back into the entryway. "It's only been three days."

"Vastra, Jenny!" The Doctor announced, stepping out of the doorway to the drawing room, however both women noted that his usual enthusiasm was absent. They watched as he turned around quickly and disappeared back into the other room, returning moments later with a tired-looking Clara. Jenny observed Clara talking softly to the Doctor; she was not able to hear the words but she could see from the expression on Clara's face that she didn't want to be here. The Doctor however, seemed adamant about them being here, and waved away Clara's concerns.

"Doctor, how lovely to see you. We didn't expect you back so soon after..." Madame Vastra trailed off, unwilling to speak of the event, knowing everyone already understood.

"We needed to talk to you all, and I thought now was as good a time as any." The Doctor replied, walking into the dining room and taking a seat at the table. Clara sat beside him reluctantly, staring down at the table in front of her. Once they were all seated, the Doctor spoke.

"Well, we have some good news, some bad news, and some questions." The Doctor stated, glancing a Clara. "The first of which; where is Strax?"

"He's gone up to Glasgow. He didn' want to talk to Madame, and once 'e realised that we were fine 'e left." Jenny replied, frowning slightly.

"Why didn't he want to talk to you?" The Doctor addressed Vastra.

"That is unimportant. You're obviously here for a reason Doctor, so we'd best address the matter at hand."

"Alright, well I'll start with the good news." The Doctor decided, turning to Clara and raising his eyebrows. Clara, however, didn't acknowledge him; not lifting her gaze from the table. The Doctor ignored this, grasping her hand in his and looking up at Jenny and Vastra's expectant faces. "Clara's pregnant."

There was a chorus of 'congratulations' and 'that's wonderful news' from the two women, before they noticed Clara's expression. The small woman was on the verge of tears, her eyes squeezed shut and her head bowed. The Doctor immediately reached for her, dropping her hand and pulling her towards him; until her face was pressed into the crook of his neck.

Vastra and Jenny waited patiently, if a little anxiously, until Clara moved away from the Doctor again. Her cheeks were dry, but her eyes showed a deep sorrow that confused the two Victorians.

"I'm confused Doctor. Surely having a child is a good thing?" Vastra questioned.

"That's where the bad news comes in. We saw her die."

"You saw who die?" Vastra asked, Jenny nodding slightly beside her.

"Our daughter, Scarlett." Clara murmured.

"Bu' ya said Clara _is_ pregnan'. As in, the present. 'ow could you 'ave seen 'er die?" Jenny asked.

"That's where the questions come in. But first, we need to see her grave." The Doctor declared.

"Who's grave?" Jenny queried.

"Clara's"

* * *

Vastra and Jenny walked ahead, Vastra's veil pulled over her face and her arm through Jenny's. The Doctor and Clara had fallen behind a little, with Clara having changed into a dress similar to the one she wore in Yorkshire. Clara also held the Doctor's arms, though she walked much closer to him, almost leaning against him. Her eyes flitted around the cemetery, taking in the familiar landmarks.

"I've been here before." Clara said suddenly, and the Doctor looked at her quizzically. "I used this as a shortcut home a few times; the real me." Clara walked forwards, letting go of the Doctor's arms and coming to a halt beside Vastra and Jenny. They were staring down at a large headstone, newer that the other, which had a name clearly engraved on it. "I remember walking past here." Clara said, then stopping when she read the name on the stone. "Wait, is this me?" She asked, turning to the Doctor with a mix of confusion and fear. The Doctor's only reply was a nod. "I'm buried here?" She gaped, and then her expression turned disgusted. "I'm standing on my dead body."

The Doctor watched as Clara frowned slightly, before she chuckled darkly. He walked up to her and pulled her into him, turning her body around and pressing her face into his chest. Clara just stood there, quivering slightly, before pulling away.

"I'm fine. Let's just do what we have to do and then get out of here." She said, turning back to the tombstone.

"Alright, 1866 to 1892 would make her... twenty-six years old." The Doctor announced, staring intently at the stone. "Well that part fits, at least."

"Doctor, you still 'aven't explained; why do you need to know 'ow old she was?" Jenny asked, puzzled.

The Doctor turned to the Victorian's and spoke quickly. "My Clara is twenty-four, and she's pregnant now. When we were on Novatram 4 the girl there couldn't touch Clara. When she did, there were sparks; Blinovitch energy."

"Two of the same object or creature in the same place." Vastra supplied. "That girl was your daughter."

"Yes. Except we think she wasn't." The Doctor said, receiving puzzled glances from both Vastra and Jenny. "Clara remembers some of her lives, and in some of them she had a child. This child was born while she was twenty-four, and the oldest she ever was, was two years old. That's because the oldest Clara ever was, was twenty-six. The twenty-six-year-old Clara was this one.' The Doctor finished.

Both Vastra and Jenny nodded, before Jenny spoke. "But 'ow can ya be sure?"

"We need to talk to this Clara's parents. If this version of Scarlett went missing... well then we know why."

* * *

They'd made their way silently back to the house, and the Victorians locked up, before they all boarded the TARDIS. The Doctor announced their destination as Yorkshire, early 1893, and typed in the coördinates. The TARDIS took off, throwing its passengers around the console as it flew. They landed only a minute later, and stepped out to find themselves in a run-down alley.

The group walked into street, Clara leading them with her arm through the Doctor's. She walked for about ten minutes, before stopping in front of a small terraced house. The brick building had a small, fenced off, area in front of it, in which grew a few well-kept bushes. Above the door were wooden climbing slats, and running through this was a beautiful red climbing rose. The front door was a deep blue – almost the same colour as the TARDIS – and had a large brass doorknob in the centre of it. There was also a letterbox just below the doorknob, a peephole just above it, and a wrought iron number that read '5'. The Doctor stepped towards the door, before turning back to Clara.

"They can't see you." The Doctor said, gesturing hurriedly for Clara to move. "They think you're dead." He watched Clara move away, then turned back to the door. No cleared his throat loudly, before reaching out a hand and knocking twice on the door. He waited a few moments, then stepped back slightly when the door was opened to reveal a middle-aged woman. She faced him in the doorway, and although she was half a foot smaller than the Doctor, she definitely intimidated him. She wore a black silk dress with a high collar and her hair was in a tight bun. She looked at the Doctor impatiently, before speaking.

"Who are you, and what do you want?"

Her tone was stern, and the Doctor fumbled for an explanation before pulling out his psychic paper. "I'm from the police ma'am. Private investigator, John Smith. These are my colleagues Jenny and Vastra. I was wondering what your name was?"

"Elizabeth Oswald." The woman replied, and the Doctor let out a sigh of relief – at least they had the right place. "Why do you need my name?"

"We're looking into the disappearance of infants from this area, and we were wondering if you knew anything about it." The Doctor supplied nervously, hoping that the woman would talk to them. He watched as she looked up and down the street, spying a few young boys staring at them, before moving behind the door and gesturing for them to enter.

"I'll jus' stay ou' 'ere." Jenny called, walking back onto the street. The Doctor smiled thankfully at her, before following Elizabeth and Vastra into the house. They walked through a narrow corridor into the living room, where Elizabeth turned to face the two friends.

"You say you're looking into infant disappearances?" She quizzed, and after receiving a nod from Doctor she continued. "How much of this is told to the police?"

"That all depends on you ma'am. If you do not wish to be named, we have a legal obligation to abide by your request." Vastra explained.

"Good. Well then, I would like the information I am about to tell to be considered anonymous." Once again, she was acknowledged by a nod, and so continued. "My... my granddaughter went missing three months ago, on Christmas day. I was with her earlier in the night, as she had woken up and started to cry, as infants do. It was just before midnight when I left her room, and I didn't hear anything from her room that night, but when I went to check on her the next morning, she was gone." At this point, Elizabeth looked down, breathing heavily and avoiding the Doctor's gaze. "I haven't seen her since."

"What was her name?" The Doctor asked.

"Scarlett." The woman answered. "My daughter named her after her favourite colour. Not a name for times like these, I believe, but then, Clara was always a bit beyond the boundaries. That's what landed her with a child in the first place." Elizabeth answered, turning to them both. "I might as well tell you the full story. Sit down, and would you like a cup of tea?"

The Doctor replied with "Yes, please" but Madame Vastra declined the offer. Once Elizabeth had made tea for herself and the Doctor – and offered again to Vastra – the three sat down at the table.

"Clara, my daughter, was my only child; my husband fell ill when she was young, and has never recovered, so we never had an awful lot of money. She was always well-behaved, but tended to have a very over-active imagination. She considered herself to be just as good as the men, and was always trying to be of a higher class. We lived in London during her childhood, and when she was old enough she got a job as a barmaid at one of the local inns. I discouraged her choice of work, as the inn was infamous in the area. Needless to say she ignored my warnings, and one night two years ago she was set upon by a horde of drunken men. You can guess what happened next." The Doctor frowned at the thought of his Clara in a situation like that, and immediately felt the need to make sure she was alright. Before he could say anything, Elizabeth continued.

"We hid her while she was pregnant. What else were we supposed to do; she was unmarried! Anyway, she had the child, and we agreed that for Scarlett's sake it was best if she was named as Clara's sister instead of her daughter. My husband and I then moved from London to Yorkshire, and Clara came with us until we found that there was no suitable work for her here. She decided that the best course of action was to go back to London; otherwise Scarlett was going to starve. She got a job at a different bar, where the owner had known her before, and then managed to acquire some fake documents. She pretended to be a middle-class woman named Miss Montague, and became a governess of two upper-class children. She visited Scarlett once a month and brought the majority of her earnings with her. She only stayed for a few days, before she returned to London. The last time I saw her was the week before Christmas; she had to work over the holiday, and came to visit Scarlett before working at the pub for a few days." Elizabeth trailed off, and the Doctor's face fell in realisation.

"She died on Christmas Eve last year, and Scarlett disappeared the next day." Now Elizabeth began to cry slightly, but she regained her composure in moments and dismissed the offer of a handkerchief from the Doctor. "No, I'm perfectly fine. But tell me, what are you going to do with this information?"

"We'll try to find your granddaughter as best we can, but we may not be able to find anything." The Doctor replied, hating the fact that he was lying to a woman who was obviously longing to have her grandchild back.

"Thank you." Elizabeth said, and the Doctor and Vastra stood to exit the house. They nodded once more to the older woman, before walking out of the door. The Doctor quickly looked around, spying Jenny waving at him from the corner of a small alley. He walked quickly towards her, and saw Clara stood just behind her. The Doctor pushed past Jenny and enveloped Clara in a huge embrace; holding her small body tight against him. She wrapped her arms around his middle, and clung to him just as tightly.

When they finally pulled away, the Doctor kept one arm looped around Clara's waist, and faced the two Victorians. "I say we go back home and figure this all out." He declared, and the group walked back in the direction of the TARDIS.

* * *

When they landed back in the drawing room of Vastra and Jenny's house, they were met with a rather annoyed Strax.

"Where have you been?" The Sontaran asked loudly. "I returned from the north to find the house empty."

"We were in Yorkshire." Jenny replied walking out of the time machine and into the room. "'ow long 'as it been?"

"I have been here for five days." Strax replied, walking into the living room.

"Well... it could have been worse." The Doctor supposed, walking into the room with Clara's small hand in his. Vastra walked in behind them, and thy all took a seat at the table.

"Alright, first things first; to fill Strax in." At the mention of his name, the Sontaran focussed his attention on the Time Lord. "Strax, Clara is pregnant." They watched as Strax frowned, then looked as though he was about to speak, before closing his mouth again. "And we saw our daughter die." This received the same reaction, but a longer pause beforehand. "Right, now that that's cleared up, best to get onto business."

The Doctor leaned forwards, laying his hands face down on the wooden table. "We can make a pretty accurate prediction that Clara was pregnant when she entered my time-stream." At the raised eyebrows from Vastra and Jenny, the Doctor flushed and continued. "For two reasons. We can also suppose that Scarlett was scattered the same way as Clara was." This statement was met with nods from the Paternoster Gang, but Clara leaned forward and tapped the Doctor on the shoulder.

"Actually, I think she was a bit different. I mean, I died normally – well, to an extent -, but as far as I know, Scarlett always died at the same time as me. Also, how come she looked like you when Victorian me hadn't met you before?"

The Doctor thought for a minute, before speaking. "She was tied to you physically. If you were to die now, she would die too, because she needs you alive to survive. No matter how old she was, I suppose that remained true. As for looking like me... I think that was the same as you always looking the same, even though you never had the same parents." The Doctor looked down at the table again.

"So, she got scattered through time the same as you did because you were pregnant when you jumped into my time-stream. The oldest she ever got to was two, because we're assuming that you were always twenty-four when you had her. The Victorian version of her was kidnapped – she was still alive after you died because of the instrument that Strax used to bring you back to life after you fell – and that was the version of her that we met, and who died the other day." The Doctor stopped, and seemed to think, before smiling sadly. "She killed herself because she knew that there couldn't be two of them, and that she was only an echo." Clara smiled sadly as well, and then both of them looked up at the three others. Vastra and Jenny seemed to understand the concept, but Strax looked as though he was still a little confused. The Doctor smirked at his expression, before addressing all of them. "Any questions?"

There was a pause, and Strax looked about to answer before Clara's whispered exclamation of 'oh no'. All eyes turned to her as they took in her worried expression. "We've got to tell my dad."

**A.N: **I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I am so sorry that this hasn't been updated in so long, but I literally have had no time. Reality hit me like a freight train and I've been doing non-stop school work for the past week. I know that's not an excuse, so I'll just repeat that I am _extremely_ sorry.

This chapter is a lot longer than any of the others (by a good 1500 words), but that's the least you guys deserve, because I have been terrible this week. Anyway, thankyou to everyone who reviewed last chapter, and I hope you don't all hate me for the terrible wait between chapters. Also, I hope this clears up any questions you have about Scarlett (because I've been asked a few.) If I've forgotten something - or if you're feeling like Strax - just review or PM me and I will explain it to you.  
Once again, sorry about that wait, and the next chapter should be up sooner; probably by Wednesday. If it's not, feel free to yell at me. So, _**please review**_and tell me what you think, and I hope you guys keep reading.  
-Weird :)


	21. Chapter 20

The Doctor's face went white, the blood draining from his cheeks. He gulped, and then opened his mouth, only to close it again. This movement repeated for a while, and just when one of the others way about to interrupt, the Doctor spoke. "We haven't met yet."

"No, you haven't." Clara echoed, her eyes staring into space. "What are we going to do?"

The Doctor thought for a moment. "Well, we have to tell him sooner or later. We might as well get it over and done with."

The pair of them said quick goodbyes to Vastra, Jenny and Strax, before running out of the room and into the TARDIS. The Doctor sprinted to the console, Clara hot on his heels, and after the Doctor had typed in the familiar coördinates they both grabbed onto the railings as the TARDIS took flight. The bumpy ride was over relatively quickly, and when the shaking had stopped completely the Doctor and Clara met at the doors of the TARDIS.

"Ready?" The Doctor asked, gripping Clara's hand tightly. Clara smirked in response, before uttering the Doctor's signature word.

"Geronimo." The pair exited the doors swiftly, pulling them close behind them as they went. Clara glanced around the small living room, before turning to the Doctor with a frown. "I thought we were going to see my dad?"

The Doctor frowned and looked down slightly, clearing his throat. "Um, yeah, we were..." Clara rolled her eyes at the Doctor stepping forwards as Artie Maitland ran into the room.

"Clara you're back!" The eleven-year-old yelled, appearing around the corner and running up to his nanny. "Hello Clara's boyfriend!" He addressed the Doctor with his usual childish enthusiasm, before turning back to Clara "Where did you go this time?" Artie asked her excitedly, but instead of receiving answer he was suddenly pulled into a tight hug. Clara's arms wrapped around him, and Artie simply hugged her back, before pulling away. However, when he saw the look in his nanny's eyes Artie frowned. "Clara, what's wrong?" He asked, suddenly extremely concerned. His nanny always seemed to be a pillar of strength, completely unfazed by anything scary or sad; or at least, never letting it show. But as he looked at her now, Artie noticed that Clara was on the brink of tears, and was shaking her head at him, unable to answer his question.

Artie's next thought was what could have caused Clara to be so upset, and he turned to the Doctor; for once his eyes not filled with amazement at what the alien was doing, but outright accusation. "What did you do to her? Why is Clara upset?" Artie asked, craning his neck to frown up at the Doctor. At this point, Clara reached out and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, bringing his attention back to her.

"He didn't do anything Artie. I promise. It's just been a while since I've seen you, and a lot has happened." Clara spoke softly, attempting to calm the child down, but Artie only looked more worried.

"What happened? Did something bad happen? Did you get hurt?" His eyes widened and his voice grew higher with every question, and Clara stepped forward and grabbed him by the hand, leading him the few steps to the sofa. He fell down onto it and she sat down beside her, looking at her with that small frown still fixed on his young face.

"Artie, some bad stuff happened, and it was a bit sad, but I'm alright, honestly." Clara assured Artie, looking straight into his eyes so that he knew she wasn't lying. The Doctor stood uncomfortably in front of the TARDIS, but soon walked to a nearby armchair and perched on the arm.

"I wouldn't let her get hurt Artie, you know that." The Doctor piped up, drawing the boy's attention away from Clara again. "Why don't you go find your sister?" He suggested.

"No." Artie said adamantly. "I want to know what happened." He looked quickly between Clara and the Doctor, the former sighing before answering him.

"Alright, go get Angie and then we'll tell you." Artie grinned, although his enthusiasm was more subdued than usual, before quickly getting up and racing towards to the stairs.

The Doctor looked questioningly at Clara. "How much are you planning on telling them?"

"All of it." Clara stated, and when the Doctor looked about to object, she continued. "They have a right to know."

Just then Artie reappeared, towing his older sister with him. "This better be good, I was doing something interesting." Angie complained, flopping down onto the end of the couch, whilst Artie sat next to Clara again. The woman turned to them, and glanced once more at the Doctor for reassurance before beginning her story.

She told them about the dream first, with a few interruptions of why she was asleep and apologies (though only from Artie) about the kids going to the cinema without permission. She explained about seeing the three Victorians and River, and how the Whispermen had told them to go to the Doctor's grave. She said about them climbing through the future TARDIS and her being attacked by the Whispermen. This had made Artie lean forward and hug her, and the eleven-year-old kept his arms around her as she told them about the Great Intelligence had done to the Doctor. Artie's arms tightened around her when she spoke about going into the Doctor's time-stream, and when the Doctor took over to say how he'd gotten her out.

They took a break to make everyone a cup of tea, before Clara continues with her story. She let the Doctor explain about getting a message on the psychic paper, and he told the children about the Silence as well. They got to the point where they met Scarlett, before both adults stopped talking; neither willing to narrate this part of the story. Clara finally took the initiative – after some prompting from the Maitland children – before continuing. She told them about being imprisoned, and talking to the girl. Angie was listening intently now; she had been since she found out Scarlett's age. Both Maitland children looked shocked when the Doctor took over the narrative and told them of Clara being beaten. Angie began to yell at the Doctor that he should have done something, whereas Artie slipped his small arms around Clara's waist and buried his head in her chest, drying silently. Clara calmed the pair down using comforting words – patting Artie's curls softly - before the Doctor continued with the story.

Clara listened closely as he described the next part, as she had been unconscious for most of it. He seemed to pause slightly, before he continued with the story. He spoke of them running away and hiding in the storage room, and of them finding the control room. He looked conflicted as he told the children about turning off the airlocks, and from there both Clara and the Doctor voiced the events; each taking control of the story when the other ran out of words.

When they finished speaking about Scarlett's death, both adults looked very gloomy. Artie was still hugging Clara, and the woman's arms had gone around him too; both comforting and seeking comfort. However, Angie stood from the couch suddenly, her arms crossed.

"Tell us what you left out." The teenager demanded, gaze flitting between the Doctor and Clara. Clara's face betrayed nothing, so Angie turned to glower at the Doctor. He seemed to wilt under her harsh glare, his eyes searching for Clara's for help. The young woman sighed and released Artie from her grip, sitting up straight on the sofa and gesturing for Angie to focus on her.

"The girl that we met, Scarlett, she was the Doctor's daughter from the future." Clara explained, and both Angie and Artie turned to look at him. "But she was also my daughter." Clara finished.

Angie turned her head from the Doctor to stare at Clara, her eyes wide. She waved a finger between the two adults, and Clara nodded in confirmation. Artie simply looked confused.

"So you and the Doctor...?" Angie asked, raising an eyebrow. The Doctor's face went red, but Clara gave no visible reaction. Then suddenly Angie's face fell. "But you saw her die."

Again, Clara nodded, and smiled feebly. Then the Doctor seemed to think. "Well, she was our daughter... but she wasn't." Seeing the confused looks, he explained further. "You know how we said about all the lives Clara had? Well this girl was the daughter of a Victorian Clara." The children seemed to think for a minute, before they nodded in comprehension. Then Artie frowned.

"Does that mean you're going to have a daughter properly?" He asked innocently, looking up at his nanny. Clara smiled warmly at him, before addressing both he and Angie.

"That's something else we have to tell you." Clara said. "I'm pregnant."

"You're _what_?" Came a voice from the door, and the group of four turned around to see George Maitland stood in the doorway.

**A.N: **I'm sorry, I'm sorry, again; I'm sorry for not updating for ages, and that this chapter probably wasn't what you were expecting, but I have to learn 5 minutes of French for my GCSE and I've not really had time. On top of that, I had some really bad writer's block, and I've been in a different country for part of this week. So yeah. Anyway, I've updated (as you can see) and I am planning to update tomorrow too if I can; just to make up for the lack of updates over the last two weeks. Thank you for those who've stick with me through this, and special thanks to the people who review my chapters; you honestly make my day.  
Oh, and my writers block was mainly due to another idea screaming at me to the point where I couldn't think. It's a Doctor Who story called Sauvé (don't worry, only the title's French), and it's about Oswin. I also used it as an excuse to try out a new writing style, so if you're feeling nice go take a look and review it so I know how I went.  
Anyway; as I said, there will be another update tomorrow, but _**please review **_and let me know what you think  
-Weird :)


	22. Chapter 21

Clara shot up from the sofa. "M-Mr Maitland." She stated, shocked, and more than a bit scared. "Hi. Um, yeah...well...um." She stuttered in a small voice, ducking her head.

"You're pregnant?" He asked disbelievingly. "How long have you known?"

"I-I found out t-today." Clara's voice now portrayed her fear, and she backed away slightly until she bumped against the Doctor's chest. The Doctor reached out and grasped Clara's hand in his to steady and reassure her.

"Hey, it's okay." Mr Maitland's voice had become softer as he realised he was scaring Clara, and he walked slowly towards her. "I'm not judging you. Nor am I going to put you out of a job; that is, if you still want to work." He placed his hand on her shoulder, and Clara let out a somewhat pained smile.

"You mean you're pregnant now?" Artie asked, standing too as he had been pushed from the couch when his nanny had stood suddenly. Clara nodded in response, but wasn't prepared for the young boy to come barrelling into her. "That's so cool!" He said excitedly, releasing her from his grip to grin up at Clara. His voice dropped to a whisper when he voiced his next words. "Will it be an alien too? 'Cause your boyfriend's an alien." Artie asked, and when Clara nodded again the eleven-year-old's eyes went wide and he turned to his sister with an enormous grin.

However, the look on Angie's face showed the exact opposite attitude of her brother. "You might as well pack your things now then, shouldn't you?" The teenager declared harshly, her arms crossed again. "You're gonna leave us soon anyway." Angie spun around on the spot, ignoring to outraged cries from her father, and ran up the stairs. They heard the sound of a door slamming, then silence.

"I'll go talk to her." Mr Maitland stated, turning to follow his daughter.

"No, let me." Clara insisted, giving the Doctor a look to ensure he tended to Artie, before walking out of the living room and up the stairs. She paused outside Angie's bedroom, listening quietly, before knocking on the door. "Angie, can I come in?"

Clara waited for half a minute, counting down the seconds in her head, before she opened the door and stepped into the teenager's room. Angie was sat on the far corner of her bed, leaning against the wall with her head turned away from Clara and her arms around her legs. The young woman walked quietly into the room, and took a seat on the edge of Angie's bed. She reached out a hand to touch the girl's back, but as soon as she did Angie jerked away from her. "Go away." The young girl muttered, curling into a tighter ball.

"Angie-"

"I said _go away_! I don't want to talk to you." Angie interrupted, moving further into the corner.

"Angie, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't know this would happen." Clara admitted softly, looking down as her hands weaved themselves together. "I don't even know what's going to happen now..."

"Exactly!" Angie shouted, turning around abruptly to address her nanny. Clara could see for the first time now that tears were streaming down the girl's cheeks. "I mean, you were gonna leave us anyway, but now you've got even more of an incentive." Angie's voice, was rising by the second. "And you've only gone and got pregnant with an alien! Who knows what will happen. You could die! You could turn green or... or something!" The teenager was fast running out of ideas, and was her hysterical rant appeared to be over, as her next words were soft and tear-filled. "And then we'd never see you again."

Clara closed her eyes as she realised this fear was the root of Angie's problem. The girl was afraid of losing her. The woman who acted so much like her mother, but wasn't, and had been through the exact same thing. Clara had lost her mother at a young age, and since Mrs Maitland's death she had become Angie's main confidant. She couldn't imagine the level of betrayal Angie felt now.

Clara reached forward again, moving further up the bed and placing her arms around Angie. The teen leaned into the embrace, and Clara began to mutter soothingly to her as she cried. "I'm sorry." She repeated after a while.

"Don't be sorry." Angie's answer was muffled, "Just... don't just go off in that stupid box and not come back."

Clara smiled slightly, patting Angie's wild brown curls. "I promise I won't."

* * *

The Doctor stood awkwardly in front of the TARDIS, shifting from foot to foot. He could feel Mr Maitland's eyes following his movements, and Artie had sat down on the sofa; still confused by his sister's reaction. Just as the Doctor was about to speak – to attempt to ease the building tension in the room – Mr Maitland questioned him.

"How long have you known Clara?" He asked, but there was a clear accusation in his tone.

"About three months now." The Doctor replied quickly.

"And what did Artie mean when he said 'properly'?" Mr Maitland asked. The Doctor looked confused for a moment, before he eyes widened and he opened his mouth, only to close it when he found he had no words.

"Um, I was just clarifying what Clara had said." Artie piped up from his position next to the couch. Mr Maitland seemed to frown for a moment, before accepting this excuse. The Doctor nodded too, and was about to excuse himself when Mr Maitland spoke again.

"What is that box?"

The Doctor froze. "What, this old thing?" he asked apprehensively.

"Yeah, I keep seeing it around, and I don't know where it pops up from." Mr Maitland replied.

"Oh, that... it's, uh, it's a hologram. Yes, it's a hologram that I've been working on for my work." The Doctor lied.

"But holography to this extent is still in the research stage. I mean, that looks real." Mr Maitland marvelled.

"Yes well it's not. You see, this is a remote which controls it." the Doctor pulled his sonic screwdriver from his pocket – although it was not his original, as that was still in Madame Kovarian's possession – and activated it. "And by pressing this button I can make it appear and disappear." The TARDIS made its usual grinding and whirring sounds, and faded in and out until it was gone. "I'm still working on it, as you can see. Need to make the disappearance seamless."

"I thought you said you were a doctor." Mr Maitland stated, confused.

"No, no that's just..., my nickname. My real name's John Smith, but I think it's boring, so I decided to be the Doctor. I'm not sure why, but I suppose it just... stuck." The Doctor explained, and Artie let out a small chuckle at the genuine confusion on his face. Mr Maitland, however, still looked slightly confused.

"Artie, can you go up and check on Clara and Angie please?" He addressed his son, and Artie looked between him and the Doctor before nodding and walking up the stairs. When his footsteps had faded, Mr Maitland turned back to the Doctor.

The older-looking man stepped forward, and the Doctor couldn't help but feel slightly intimidated by him. "I don't know really know you, but I put my children in your care earlier because Clara trusts you. I have nothing to base a judgement on, except for a few brief meetings. But know this; Clara is like family to me, and to my children. If you hurt her in any way, or if you leave her, you will never be welcome here again. And if I ever saw you again... well I wouldn't be responsible for my actions."

The Doctor gulped slightly, then nodded. "I wouldn't ever leave her." He stated, and Mr Maitland narrowed his eyes at him. Just then, Artie came back down the stairs, followed by Angie and Clara. The teenager looked as though she'd been crying, and Clara's shirt had a small mascara stain on one shoulder.

"Right, well I have to leave, of I'll miss my flight. So good afternoon Doctor," he addressed, "goodbye you pair – be good for Clara," he ruffled his son's hair, with Angie ducking away before he could reach, "and I shall be back next Tuesday." With that, George Maitland left the house, grabbing his large suitcase and giving that Doctor a warning glance as he passed.

When they heard the car pull away, Clara turned to the Doctor. "Where is the TARDIS?" She quizzed. The Doctor looked behind him, forgetting that he'd made the ship dematerialise to provide an excuse for Mr Maitland, and then turned back to Clara.

"I may or may not have made disappear. But don't worry, I can easily get it back... just give me a minute." The Doctor began to fiddle with his sonic screwdriver, twisting it and pressing different buttons on it. "...Ah."

"What's 'ah'? Please tell me it's not what I think it is." Clara appealed.

"Well, you see, this screwdriver is new, and I was constantly updating the other one; adding different setting and the like. It appears this one doesn't have all of them." The Doctor stated nervously.

"So you've just lost the TARDIS?" Clara finished.

"...More like displaced it. Don't worry; it'll turn up in a day or two." The Doctor replied.

"And how are we supposed to tell my dad that I'm pregnant if we can't even get there?" Clara exclaimed. The Doctor's only reply was an 'oh', until Angie decided to butt in.

"Why don't we drive up there? It's only four hours, and it's the school holidays. Besides, we haven't seen Uncle Dave in a while." The Doctor nodded at her logic, Artie looked enthusiastic, but Clara seemed unconvinced.

"What, drive all the way to Blackpool? With you two?" Clara asked, turning to the kids.

"Or you could just leave us at home-"

"Right, driving it is."

**A.N: **Feel happy; I am giving up a good grade in French for you people. Jokes :P Anyway, here is the update I promised (on time!), and I hope it lives up to your standards. I probably won't be able to update for another few days (but after Thursday I am free from school stuff, so yay!), but I have a question.  
I need a reaction from Clara's dad, but I've sort of exhausted my ideas, so I if you wouldn't mind/or have an idea could you please review or PM me with it so that I can write something new? It can just be a tweak on mine, but I am fresh out of ideas at the moment.  
Anyway, thank you for reading, and _**please review**_; they make me happy, and motivated.  
-Weird :)


	23. Chapter 22

"Are we there yet?" Artie whined, slumping back into the seat of Clara's two-door Toyota.

"Oh shut up! We're only two minutes closer than we were two minutes ago." Angie grumbled, sinking further into her seat and turning to face the window.

"Alright, let's play a game." The Doctor announced from the passenger seat. He'd had a minor disagreement with Clara about her driving, but as usual the small brunette had won. She was now speeding down the M6, her gaze focussed entirely on the traffic.

"What game?" Artie asked excitedly, while Angie just rolled her eyes.

"How about 'I spy'?" The Doctor suggested.

"No, that's a boring game. Why don't we play the silent game?" Angie piped up sarcastically. Now it was the Doctor's turn to roll his eyes, turning back to Artie. The boy seemed to think for a minute, before smiling and looking up.

"There was this game that we used to play with mum. You had to find a number in a number plate. Like, of you were looking for ten you have to see 0-1-0. Otherwise it didn't count; it had to be the full number." Artie's small face fell for a minute. "We were on nine-hundred and eighty seven." He murmured, and the Doctor looked down for a second, before smiling sadly at Artie.

"Well then, how about we try to get to a thousand." He said grinning, causing Artie's face to light up as well. They both turned to look out of the window, and began calling out the numbers on the cars that they could see. After about ten minutes, Artie whooped and turned to the Doctor.

"I saw 9-8-7. Now we've only got twelve more to go!" The young boy's excitement was infectious, and it wasn't long before Clara - and even Angie - had joined in the game.

It took them another hour to reach Blackpool, but the time seemed to fly past as the search for the numbers got closer and closer to completion. When they finally pulled up in front of the small, semi-detached house where Clara's father lived they had managed to find all but three numbers. As they walked to the front door, the children skipping ahead of them, the Doctor noticed that Clara seemed withdrawn. He reached out and grasped her hand, squeezing it lightly and smiling when she returned the gesture. They took the last steps up to the door, where an exciting Angie and Artie stood after pressing the doorbell. They heard footstep coming down the stairs, before the door was swung open to reveal a shortish, grey-haired man. His eyes lit up when he saw the children, and Artie only gave out a quick yell of "Uncle Dave!" before bowling into the older man and wrapping him in a hug. Dave gave a slight chuckle, before looking over the boy's shoulder at his other guests. His face brightened even more when he saw his daughter.

"Clara! Angie, and... Sorry, who are you?" Dave asked, his brow furrowing as he looked at the Doctor. The Doctor couldn't help but notice the height difference; the other man was only about five foot six; a good half-head shorter than the Doctor.

"Dad, this is my boyfriend, the Doctor." Clara said nervously, looking up at her father with a worried expression.

"Okay, well I'm Dave." The man said, putting his hand out, which the Doctor shook firmly. "Doctor who?"

The Doctor grinned. "John. John Smith. Pleased to meet you Dave." The Doctor was saved from any more conversation by a crash and a scream from the room behind Dave; which Angie and Artie had just entered. Clara's eyes immediately widened, and she ran towards the room, Dave and the Doctor following her.

"Artie, are you okay?" Clara asked as she darted into the room to find the boy sitting on the floor with one leg stretched out. When she saw the large cut across his left knee and the smashed glass biscuit jar she stepped forward and grasped onto the end of the kitchen roll, pulling off a few squares and handing them to Artie. The boy grasped them and placed them on his knee, and Clara kneeled down and helped him to apply the right amount of pressure to his cut. The Doctor then turned as Dave came into the room with a dustpan and brush and began to sweep up the glass and crumbs of biscuit. Artie had started to cry softly, and had buried his head into Clara's shoulder. Angie was stood motionless on the other side of the room, staring at a piece of glass that was covered in one side with deep crimson blood. Her head snapped up when Dave swept up the piece of glass, and she turned her attention to the Doctor, who was looking at her worriedly.

"H-he was trying to get a biscuit and..." Angie trailed off, and the Doctor noticed for the first time that she was shaking slightly. Dave got up off of the floor, where he had just finished picking up the glass from, and placed the dustpan down. He walked towards Angie and pulled the shocked teen into a hug. The Doctor watched for a minute before walking to Clara. He helped Artie to stand up and hobble over to a tall kitchen chair, making sure he was sitting comfortably. Clara joined him and put two plasters over his cut, but Dave left the room with Angie; prompting Clara and Artie to follow and the Doctor to trail after them.

They arrived in a small room with two lounges and an armchair. Dave was already seated in the armchair, with Angie – and later Artie – sitting on one of the lounges. Clara took a seat on the other lounge, after making sure that Artie was sitting alright and had calmed down.

"So, Doctor, where do you work?" Dave asked, breaking the silence.

"Well, I'm unemployed at the moment, but I mostly do IT work and stuff. That's how I met Clara." The Doctor replied, fidgeting slightly.

"Yes, how did you meet Clara?" Dave interrogated.

"Well, she was having problems with her computer, and so I came over and gave her a hand."

"One of my friends recommended him." Clara put in, then nodded for the Doctor to continue.

"After that we went on a few dates and got together properly. We've been together for two months now." The Doctor was smiling by the end of his story, and his hand had found its way around Clara's.

They sat in an awkward silence for a few minutes, Clara shifting uncomfortably, before Dave spoke up again.

"So, why are you here? Not that I don't mind seeing you all, but I thought George was away?" The question was directed at Clara, and she welcomed that effort to begin conversation; but also dreaded it.

"Well, Angie and Artie wanted to see you, because we haven't been over for three months, and I wanted you to meet the Doctor." Clara replied.

"And yeah, Dad's on another stupid business trip." Angie grumbled before Clara could continue, clearly annoyed that her father wasn't with them during the school holidays. "But that's not the main reason we're here."

The look that Clara sent Angie could have killed a million people, but the irritable teenager simply rolled her eyes and looked away. Clara turned back to her father to find him looking at her quizzically with his eyebrows raised. "What Angie means is that... that we came here because we wanted to go to the... theme park." Clara stumbled over her words; her usual lying skills absent.

"Clara, please don't try to lie to me. I know when you're lying." Dave's voice was firm but soft.

"Fine. Um... uh... well-"

"She's pregnant." Angie words appeared to echo around the room, repeating in everyone's heads until it seemed that they had never been spoken. But they had.

Dave's head rang, and he focussed his gaze on the nervous and scared faces of his daughter and her boyfriend. A man he had never met. A man that had gotten his little girl pregnant. "Angie, Artie, why don't you go and play outside for a little while?" He said through gritted teeth, the words sounding more like an order than a request. The two children rose, Angie striding quickly from the room and Artie limping after her. Once Dave had heard the glass back door slide shut, he attempted to control his anger.

"Clara, is it true?" He knew it was a stupid question, as he could already see from the terrified look on his daughter's face that it was, but he had to be sure. When he saw Clara struggle for words for a second before nodding hopelessly his restraint shattered. "What the hell were you thinking?! You're twenty-four and pregnant; by a man I've never met before, who you've only known for a few months! A man who has no job, who couldn't support a kid if he tried, who probably doesn't even like you! More to the point, you're not even married! Or engaged! Your child is going to be considered a bastard for it's entire life! Why would you do this?!" Dave finished his rant at Clara, who now had tears flooding down her cheeks, and turned to the Doctor. "And you! You got my daughter pregnant! You got my little girl pregnant, you corrupted her!" Dave began to take threatening steps towards the Doctor, his index finger pointed at the Time Lord. "You didn't even bother to be safe about it, you just got her pregnant! And what are you gonna do? You'll just leave her whenever you get the chance!" Dave was still advancing on the Doctor, but now he stopped, his face like thunder. "I ought to kill you for what you've done." He said with quiet intensity, stepping forward. "I should kill you."

"No Dad!" Clara's voice resounded around the room, and she threw herself in front of the Doctor. Her small face was covered in tears but she stood firm, staring up at her father with a mix of anger and fear. "Don't you dare hurt him."

Dave looked down at his daughter, seeing the pain in her eyes and the way she was using herself as a shield for the other man. He then looked at the Doctor's face, but instead of seeing him staring back the man was looking at Clara with a mixture of pride and worry. He looked back at his daughter's face, and the anger seemed to melt away from him. He saw fear in her expression; directed at him.

The Doctor watched as Dave stumbled back a few steps, as though exhausted, before landing heavily in the armchair. He ran a hand through his short grey hair before seeming to buckle into himself as he let out a sob. He buried his face in his hands, and the Doctor watched Clara stand still for a moment before rushing to him. She kneeled down on the floor next to his feet and placed a gentle hand on his knee, and it wasn't long before Dave had pulled her from the ground and into his arms. The man sat with his daughter's small body in his lap, rocking her gently as they both cried.

As the Doctor watched, he was joined by Angie and Artie; who had come in again when they heard the shouting stop. Angie looked guilty, but Artie was simply scared and wrapped his small arms around the Doctor in a hug, watching the scene before them with wide eyes. Dave was the first to look up, and he locked eyes with the Doctor to give what could only be described as an apologetic look, while Clara continued to lie with her head buried into her father's chest. When she finally did move, she broke out of her father's embrace and ran to the Doctor, throwing her arms around both him and Artie and holding on tightly. Dave walked slowly up to the Doctor, and placed his hand on the taller man's shoulder.

"Sorry. It's not every day you find out you're little girl's pregnant, and I shouldn't have taken that out on you." Dave patted the Doctor's shoulder twice, then moved out of the room into the kitchen. The Doctor moved one of his arms from around Clara's back and started to play with her hair; something he knew always calmed her down. Her crying ha stopped, but she still clung to him tightly.

He removed himself from her embrace, and walked into the kitchen. Dave was stood with his hands on the counter, leaning over it and breathing deeply. The Doctor cleared his throat awkwardly, gaining the man's attention.

"I just thought I'd say; I really do like Clara. In fact, I think – no, I know – that I love her. I won't ever leave her. And I will find a way to support this child no matter what." The Doctor promised, and Dave gave him a grateful nod.

They left Dave's house not long after that, as there was still tension floating about. Clara promised to keep in touch with her father by ringing him every week, and then they all piled into Clara's small car and set off back to London. The drive was quieter than this morning's journey, and there was barely a word spoken. By the time they reached the Maitland's small house, Angie was yawning and Artie had already fallen asleep. The Doctor carried the boy out of the car and into his bedroom, and Angie made no complaints as she was ushered to hers.

At ten o'clock the Doctor and Clara collapsed onto the sofa; Clara curling into a ball and the Doctor wrapping his arms around her. Clara's eyes were sad, and she seemed on the brink of tears again, but when the Doctor's hand came to rest on her stomach she glanced at it before looking up into his face. He smiled gently down at her, kissing her lightly on the forehead before pulling her closer to him. They fell asleep only a few minutes later.

**A.N: **I am so sorry about the wait people! It was not cool and probably annoying for you lot; I know it was annoying for me. On the plus side; school is over! So now I should have loads more time to write. I suppose I now see the plus side to writing chapters in advance, but I still don't think I will, because I prefer to give you people a say. Anyway, to those who reviewed and PM'd me about last chapter (thank you again to Tym-Kayy for the incredibly nice PM) thank you, and I hope you saw your ideas about Clara's father's reaction in here. _**Please review** _and let me know if I failed it majorly.

**Don't Ignore This!** Okay, so this is the last chapter of this story, but there will be one more that I will post which will have the first few paragraphs of the sequel that i promised you guys. The rest will be up as a separate story after that. So thank you to all the people who favourited, followed, reviewed or even just read this story; it gives me loads of confidence seeing how well this story went, and that you people are willing to put up with my weird prequel thing for the sequel should be up tomorrow.  
-Weird :D


	24. Epilogue

"Where to next then?" Clara asked, spinning around the console.

"Where do you want to go?" The Doctor fired back quickly.

"I dunno; somewhere safe, but-" Clara began, but was silenced when the next minute she found herself being thrown against the console. The TARDIS shook violently for several moments, before suddenly jerking to a halt; causing both the Doctor and Clara to be thrown forcefully onto the floor. The Doctor ran straight to Clara and pulled her up from the ground, running his hands over her to check if she was alright.

"What on earth was that?" Clara yelled, swatting his hands away.

"Honestly? I'm not sure." The Doctor replied, reluctantly moving away from her towards the console and examining the scanner.

"So, where are we?" Clara quizzed.

"Don't know, but the TARDIS seemed very determined to bring us here; wherever 'here' is." The Doctor stepped forward, and Clara joined him, grabbing his hand. However, the Doctor didn't rush towards the doors. Instead, he turned to face Clara with concerned eyes. "No, Clara, you can't come."

"Why not?" Clara asked indignantly.

"You know very well why not. I'm not risking either of you getting hurt." The Doctor stated.

"Stop being over-protective. I won't get hurt – you won't let me – and I'm much safer with you than stuck in this moody old cow. Who knows what she'll do to me!" Clara said exasperatedly, waving her arms around and dropping the Doctor's hand.

"Fine. But if I tell you to do something, do it. Straight away with no arguments." The Doctor said firmly. Clara nodded, and the Doctor gripped her small hand tightly before both took the few short steps to the doors. "Geronimo."

The Doctor and Clara each pulled a door open, to reveal a small, dimly lit room.

"Well, this is slightly anticlimactic." The Doctor said, stepping out of the box and dropping Clara's hand to take a quick look around the room. Clara stepped out next to him, and looked around, also deeming the room a little boring.

"Right then, nothing to see, now let's go." The Doctor declared, turning back to the TARDIS

"No way; the snog-box must've thrown that bad a tantrum for some reason. I want to find out why." Clara replied, walking to the only door in the room and trying the handle. The Doctor huffed slightly, before he whipped out his sonic screwdriver and pointing it at the handle. He unlocked the door with a buzz from the sonic, before turning to Clara and holding out his hand. She took it, and the Doctor turned back and pushed the heavy steel door open.

The Doctor and Clara found themselves in the middle of a dark corridor, and they looked both ways to check that no-one was there before stepping out and closing the door behind them.

"Which way do we go?" Clara asked, her eyes scanning the corridor.

"Left. No, right... How about we flip a coin?" Clara rolled her eyes at the Doctor's antics and simply dragged him in the direction of his first choice. "Left then, ok. I wonder what we'll find down here."

They continued walking for a while, checking the doors on either side. Some appeared to be store cupboards of some description, whereas others held weapons and yet more stored clothing. There were also a few rooms that held scientific equipment, and some had what looked like hospital cots in the centre of them.

"This is giving me a terrible sense of déjà vu."

**A.N:** Hello people! Well, this is the promised... prologue... thing for the sequel. It will be posted again, along with the first chapter, in a new story in a couple of days. The title of the story is called _Anomalous_ and will be a direct continuation of this story; meaning yes, Clara will still be pregnant. There will also be a new character introduced, which I kind of gave you a clue for in the last line (and the title).

Anyway, I just want to say a special thankyou to: GirlWithTheNotebook, amazonstars (guest), Tym-Kayy, jjjc (guest), KRL (guest), rycbarm123, 00 (guest), The Last Rider, Holly's Little Hideaway, Red Kestrel, Ghargr1, Guest (funnily enough, this was a guest), AMAZING (guest), accidentalwhouffle, Jess WhovianX, Guest (again, this was a guest), 7Seven7, Time-LadyMararder, romanov979, Muffins (guest), Guest (bit obvious), xxcomcrxx (guest), holyawesome (guest), wesrdtfgyuhijo (guest), Birds Of The Summer, emmacat1234, Guest (not even gonna bother), Wow (guest), Vcarp1993, Le Master Procrastinator, TaintedMuse1804, Guest (guest), Guest (guest), dammitjoanne, Guest (guest), Guest (guest), lifewithdaleks, Guest (guest) and LovelyDovely, who reviewed; some almost every chapter! (By the way, these are in order from page 7-page 1, not chapter order) Thankyou for being so kind and supportive; I never got any flame and I'm really happy about that. Also, thankyou to everyone, who favourited or followed this story; you've all given me so much more confidence in my writing, and I hope you continue to read the sequel.  
-Weird :D


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